


The Best Laid Plans (Often Go Awry)

by tessafreakingvirtue



Category: Figure Skating RPF, Olympics RPF
Genre: Angst, Best friends and more, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Pregnancy, Sperm Donor, we need a bigger bucket of rice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 81,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessafreakingvirtue/pseuds/tessafreakingvirtue
Summary: After two decades of skating together and two years of retirement, Tessa asks Scott for one last favor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starting new is always so much fun, and I hope you all enjoy this new adventure :)

“So, tonight’s the night, huh? You’re going to pop the question?” 

Tessa glanced in the mirror, averting her eyes from the pink pout of her lips to meet her sister’s gaze. She watched a small smile form on Jordan’s lips before focusing again on her reflection. She noticed the nearly indeterminable tremble in her hand as she twisted the lipstick back into its container. 

“Tonight’s the night,” Tessa sighed after a moment, turning to face the other woman fully. Tessa raised her eyebrows, allowing her hands to skim the dark green dress that hugged her hips. “Do I look okay?” 

“You look fantastic,” Jordan grinned at her. She reached out, brushing a dark strand of hair from Tessa’s face. “How are you feeling?” 

Tessa let out a quiet breath, her lips pressing together. 

“I’m terrified,” she admitted after a moment. “Maybe this is a bad idea, Jordan.” 

Tessa closed her eyes briefly, the fluttering of her heart in her chest encouraging her to inhale deeply through her nose, exhale steadily through her mouth. She swallowed around a lump that was beginning to form in her throat. Her fingers nervously smoothed the hem of her dress. 

Tessa raised her eyes to her sister’s, searching for encouragement, for the rationalization that the Virtue women were famous for. She half-expected her sister to throw her own doubts in her face, though; to make her consider the many points she’d turned over in her mind to get to this point. Jordan’s dark eyes studied her, narrowing in contemplation, the corners of her lips turning into a slight smirk. 

“Do you think this is a bad idea, Tess?” 

And there it was, that reflection that was designed to make Tessa more sure of herself and usually left her feeling more confused than ever. 

“No,” Tessa shook her head slightly, feeling the blush of uncertainty rising in her cheeks. “If I thought it was a bad idea, I wouldn’t be doing it.” 

“Okay,” Jordan nodded, tugging gently at a lock of Tessa’s hair, curling it around her fingers before turning her younger sister, directing her attention back to her reflection in the mirror. “Do you feel confident about this?” 

Tessa studied her face in the mirror, her green eyes, the curve of her eyeliner. Her lips were painted perfectly, her cheekbones highlighted in a soft pink that made her feel younger than her thirty-two years. She was twenty again, studying her reflection in the mirror of the locker room before the Olympic games in Vancouver, her heart racing out of her chest and wondering how in the hell she’d managed to end up in this situation. 

And despite the fact that her heart felt as if it might explode, despite the flush creeping into her chest and racing up the hollow of her sternum, Tessa nodded. 

“I feel confident about this.”

Jordan nodded then, tightly, a smile still playing on her lips. 

“You’re going to be okay. Just breathe.” 

“What if he says no?” Tessa asked suddenly, the words falling into the air between them. It was a thought that she hadn’t dared to mutter up to this point; it was something she’d only allowed herself to wonder about briefly, always forcing the thought from her brain and replacing it with an affirmation. 

_He won’t say no._

_But he might._

“Do you really think he will?” Jordan asked, once again the voice of reason. 

Tessa watched herself in the reflection, narrowing her eyes and considering the possibility for a long moment. 

“No,” she said after a minute. “I don’t think he will.”

Jordan stood in the doorway of the washroom, watching Tessa’s reflection. Finally, Tessa turned to her, swallowing. 

“I should go. It’s almost eight o’clock. I don’t want to be late to dinner.” 

Jordan stepped out of the doorway, allowing Tessa to brush past her. Tessa paused, grabbed her clutch, her fingers nervously working the twist at the top of the bag. She hesitated, glancing toward her sister once more. 

“Any solid words of advice?” 

Jordan stared at her for a moment before tilting her head.

“I think you could ask Scott Moir to give you a kidney and he’d rip it out and hand it to you on the spot,” she teased softly. “But maybe wait until after appetizers.”

*

Tessa arrived at the restaurant first. She always did, that was no surprise. The maître d’ saw her to a small table in the corner, pulling her chair out for her before she sat. From her vantage point just beyond the window, she could see the traffic on the sidewalk and sat still and stiff, waiting for Scott to appear. She waited for ten minutes, then fifteen, the anxiety in her stomach growing with each passing moment. She reached for her clutch to retrieve her cell phone when a hand fell upon her shoulder. She looked up, grinning at him. 

“Hey, T,” he greeted her, and she stood, pressing herself against his chest, slipping her arms around his neck in a tight hug. His hand rubbed her back, their hugs so familiar and comfortable even now, two years after their retirement. The feel of him in her arms instinctively calmed her, lowered her blood pressure, left her feeling as if she’d stepped into a warm bath, contentment slipping over her skin. 

“Scott,” she said his name softly, gently clutching his bicep as he pulled away from her, sinking back into her chair as Scott slipped into the empty spot across the table. “Hey.”

Scott grinned up as the waiter appeared, ordering his drink before reaching across the table to take Tessa’s hand in his own. 

“You look beautiful. How have you been?” His eyes were so dark, so lovely. His smile was wide and genuine, and she felt the rise of affection in her chest. Her slender fingers clutched his own as she nodded, grinning. 

“I’ve been doing well. I’m really well, actually. What about you?” 

He looked good, she realized. He was tanned, his skin firm and smooth. They spoke often by phone or text but rarely got to spend time together in this manner, and it made her realize how much she had missed him. Part of her longed for those days of training for the Olympics, spending every moment of every day with him and knowing him better than he knew himself. 

“I’m good, Tess. But I’ve missed you. When was the last time we had dinner together?” 

_Two-and-a-half months ago_ , she wanted to say. _It was the last time I saw you in person, and I’ve been thinking of that day ever since._

“It’s been a while,” she shrugged, her long, dark hair falling over her shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re here now.” 

Scott smiled at her. 

“Me too.” 

They spent the next hour talking, laughing. He was funny; even funnier in person, and it was strange how she’d forgotten how charming he could be. They’d spent twenty-one years together and it had taken less than two for her to forget the subtleties of him, the things she’d sworn she would remember for the rest of his life. It was the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, the wave in his hair, his square jaw. He looked older now, more mature, crow’s feet and laugh lines marring his skin, but to her he would forever be the fresh-faced man-child who had spent more than two decades with her on the ice. 

They talked about the interim of their lives without each other; Tessa had recently been to Spain and Scott had spent the better part of the summer working with young figure skaters in such exotic locations as Detroit and Montreal. Somehow, he had managed to get outside, to get a tan, while her skin had turned crimson beneath the warm European sun before peeling and returning to a ghostly pale. 

She watched him as he laughed, talking excitedly about the work he’d been doing with underprivileged children in inner cities, and she hesitated for a moment, knowing that he was a better person than she could ever hope to be. She spent her time in luxury hotels, making her rounds on the talk-show circuits while he molded future Olympic athletes with his knowledge and skill. 

All of these were reasons why she’d asked him to meet her tonight. The fact that he was so kind, so gentle, such a dedicated athlete and son, brother, friend. The fact that he’d been her best friend for over two decades, the only man she’d come to trust and love and the only man she was sure would ever understand her complexities and insecurities. These were the reasons. 

It wasn’t until after Tessa finished her salmon and Scott had eaten the few remaining bites of his steak that she finally found the courage to clear her throat. 

“Scott?” She said his name as he lifted his glass for a drink, his eyes meeting hers over the rim of the cup. His eyebrows went up in acknowledgement and she watched him swallow before lowering the glass back to the table. “I have something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” 

His eyebrows furrowed in genuine interest, his head nodding. 

“Okay.” He met her eyes. “What’s up?” 

She wanted to laugh aloud suddenly at the absurdity of this all. She’d been so sure of herself, making lists and doing research for the past two months while attempting to build her confidence for this very moment. She’d made calls and appointments and had done this all without his knowledge, all without so much as a warning. And she’d expected it to go off so flawlessly, expected to show up tonight and ask him this favor as if she needed him to accompany her to a publicity event. 

“Okay,” she found her mouth was suddenly dry and reached for her glass of water, taking a sip and placing it back on the table before finding the courage to smile up at him. 

“I’ve been thinking.” She began slowly, choosing her words carefully. Scott was watching her intently, nodding. “You know, it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. Since the last time we saw each other, in fact. And I’m just… shit, Scott, I don’t even know how to say this.”

“Okay,” he repeated after a moment, blinking, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?” 

“No,” she answered too quickly, and then laughed. She was flushed now, the heat creeping back into her chest and over her collarbone, her shoulders. She could feel the color in her cheeks. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s not like that.”

She fell silent again, her lips parting, meeting his eyes. 

“You’re scaring me a little bit, kiddo,” he said softly, the nickname falling into the air between them like it had been just yesterday that they’d been standing together at the top of that podium in PyeongChang, his fingers wrapped assuredly around the back of her neck, both of them breathless. 

“I’m sorry,” she found her voice after a moment. “I’m sorry. Let me start again, okay?” 

And she was so self-assured normally, so confident and unwavering in her ability to address hundreds, even thousands of people in crowds across the world as she spoke on behalf of companies and organizations promoting gender equality or the idea of women in sports. And yet somehow, despite the fact that Scott had seen her at her worst, had held her hair back when she’d vomited after competitions, had helped her undress when her costumes were too intricate to remove by herself, she found herself suddenly unable to form a coherent thought in his presence. 

“I’m finally in a place in my life where I feel like something I’ve done has made a difference in the lives of others. You know, I’ve been working with several different companies to try and raise awareness for women in sports. I’ve been promoting so many different ideas that I feel are so important, and I’m just starting to think more about myself, you know? I’m thinking about my future, about the plans and ideals I’ve had for myself, and what I really want, and-”

“Tess,” he interrupted her softly, his hand falling upon hers. Her eyes lowered to his touch on her skin before she met his gaze again. “This is me, okay? It’s still me. You don’t have to put together some big speech. This isn’t one of your sponsorships. Just tell me what you’re trying to say.” 

His eyes were so warm, so kind, and she was reminded of all their years together. She thought of watching him grow from an adorable kid to a stunningly handsome man, standing by his side all those years and feeling lucky and blessed that he was her partner, her best friend, hers. And she thought of all the times she’d craved his touch, wondered what it might be like to have his hands on her in a way that wasn’t orchestrated for the ice or judges. She thought of the times she’d wondered what it would be like to have him as a boyfriend or a lover. She wondered if he’d ever had the same thoughts about her. 

“I want to have a baby,” she said the words suddenly, all of her pretenses falling away. His eyes went wide, his lips parting, the movement of his fingers stilling on her hand. 

“I… you… what?” 

God, she hadn’t wanted to do it like this. She’d wanted to be able to present the information to him in an organized manner, show him that she’d done her research, that she’d spent months thinking about this and deciding that this was the right decision. But now the words were out there and he was straightening in his chair, swallowing the remaining beer in his glass. 

“I want to have a baby,” she repeated, her voice suddenly more sure. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I’ve looked into it, and this is what I want. I want to be a mom.”

He blinked, his lips parting several times in stunned silence before meeting her eyes. 

“Okay. Well, if that’s what you want. I mean… I think you’d be a great mom, Tess, I just…” a nervous chuckle escaped him, one hand slipping through his dark hair and scratching absentmindedly at his head. “I don’t know what I can do to support you, but if there’s anything-”

“There actually is something you can do.” Her voice was so soft, so low, that she wondered if he’d even heard her at first, but then he stopped speaking. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah, Tess, just tell me what I can do. I’m happy to help you in any way I can.” 

She looked up at him, her green eyes meeting his. 

“I want you to be my sperm donor.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm trying something new with the dual POVs. I think it will work well to help get into Scott's mind, but I'm not sure I'll do it every chapter because ultimately this is Tessa's story. I think it's going to be a lot of fun, though. Thank you for reading!

Tessa sat quietly, watching Scott’s face as her words registered. He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly, his head tilting almost imperceptibly. His lips parted and the tip of his tongue appeared for a moment before he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” she found herself saying quickly, her lips moving before she’d had a chance to even really think about what she was saying. They’d been sitting in silence now for the better part of a minute and she had to say something, had to help him wrap his mind around this idea, help him comprehend what she was saying. “I know it sounds so random, Scott, but I’ve spent so much time thinking about this, okay?” She caught his eyes, which were growing wider with each word she spoke. “It’s not something that’s just occurred to me. You know me. You know I don’t do anything without thinking it through.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding. “Yeah, I know.” 

His voice was barely audible and he glanced around, signaling for the waiter to bring him another beer. Tessa watched him silently, her hands settling in her lap as the waiter appeared with his drink. She watched him take a long drink before placing the glass on the table. 

“I’ve done a lot of research,” she offered quietly, her fingers curling on her lap. “I wouldn’t need much from you…” she felt the heat of embarrassment rising in her cheeks. “I mean… aside from the… you know, physical stuff.” 

She glanced up at him, his eyes growing slightly wider. 

“Oh, no,” she shook her head quickly, a nervous laugh slipping from her. “No, I don’t mean like that… not physical… I mean, yes, physical, but not… not you and me physical.” She let out a strangled breath and pressed her lips together, meeting his eyes. He hadn’t moved, his palms flat against the white tablecloth. “I mean it would be very… clinical.” 

“Clinical?” Scott breathed out the word, blinking. His voice was barely above a whisper. 

“Yes, clinical,” Tessa repeated, nodding. “We would go to a doctor. I already have a doctor, actually.” She kept her eyes on his as she spoke, terrified that if she looked away from him, she’d lose either his attention or her nerve and she might never get it back. 

“I’m not expecting anything from you,” she added quickly, seeing the way his eyes were beginning to glaze over. “I mean support wise. I’m more than capable of raising a child on my own, you know. I really just…” she felt the lump of emotion rising in her throat, “this is one thing I can’t really do alone. I know I’m asking a lot from you, Scott.” 

He took another drink of his beer and when he rested the glass back on the table she saw the moist fingerprints on the cup. He hadn’t said anything, at least not anything that indicated how he was feeling, and she thought she saw a slight tremor in his hand as he released the glass.

“So…” she watched his chest rise and fall, recognized the tell-tale signs of his anxiety. She’d seen that look so many times… before competitions, after the Olympics. He was struggling to handle his surprise without allowing her to see beneath his composed exterior. “What would you need me to do?” 

“Um,” she found herself unable to speak suddenly, her tongue feeling dry and heavy in her mouth. “I just need you to submit a sample, you know? You could go to the clinic on your own time, they’ll walk you through the process. There is a little bit of medical testing, but that’s all pretty standard.” She realized she was curling her fingers in her lap, nails digging into the soft skin of her palm. “It’s a pretty simple process.”

“Okay.” He was quiet for a moment, focusing his eyes on the amber liquid in his glass. “I guess I’m just… kind of surprised that you’re asking _me_.”

She sat back against her chair, blinking at him. For the past few months, she’d thought only of this moment and the way he might react. For some reason, the thought of Scott questioning her choice hadn’t occurred to her. If anything, in the back of her hopeful mind, she’d half-expected him to feel proud, honored that she’d chosen him above anyone else. 

At that, she felt the breath escape her lungs, her shoulders falling forward in a mixture of relief and disbelief. Why him? She’d spent the past several months asking herself that same question… why Scott, when she could have her choose of men from all over the world? Why her (questionably) platonic skating partner and best friend of twenty-one years when she could order sperm from any corner of the world and have it shipped directly to her? Why was she humbling himself in front of him and asking him to submit his genetic material so that she could make her dream of motherhood a reality? 

“Why not?” she thought aloud softly, as if she hadn’t spent the past few months trying to rationalize this decision. “Scott… you’re my best friend.” None of the reasons seemed significant enough to mention now. Because you’re you, she wanted to say. Because your eyes go dark when you’re determined and you will do anything it takes to complete a task. Because your hair falls over your eyes like that when it gets long and because you’re the only person who’s as much of a perfectionist as I am. Because we’ve been friends for twenty-three years and when we’re together it’s like I’ve found the other piece of myself. 

“Because David Beckham’s married?” She offered, hoping to ease the sudden tension between them. 

She hoped her joke would land, but he broke into a high-pitched giggle, the corners of his eyes crinkling with something like nervous joy. It was a strange, unwelcome sound and she smirked at him, waiting for his tittering to subside. He sighed softly, wiping at his eyes and nodding. 

“Right, David Beckham. That’s a good one, Tess.” 

“I’m kidding,” she offered softly, after a moment. “You were my first choice, Scott.” Her only choice. If he said no, she’d look elsewhere, but the sudden thought of looking into the eyes of her child and not seeing at least a fraction of Scott reflected at her made her feel unsure and hesitant about this entire situation. She felt the wave of anxiety rising in her chest. She’d been so sure of herself, as if asking Scott to contribute his sperm so that she could have a child was a typical expectation of a lifelong friend. As if he’d jump at the chance to bring this dream to life, just as he’d always been there to assist with helping her achieve the others. 

Tessa watched him for another long moment, hesitantly bringing her hand up to the table, placing it gently on top of his. His eyes shifted immediately to the point of contact, and she said his name softly. He looked up at her, the smirk faded from his lips. 

“Please say something,” she whispered, afraid to raise her voice. She didn’t want to cry right now, even though the emotion was building within her. She hadn’t expected this, and that had been foolish of her, and she began to wonder if she should have done this somewhere much more private than a fancy restaurant. “Anything.”

_If you’re going to say no, just say it, but please, please say yes._

“Can I just… take some time to think about this?” He asked. 

“Oh,” Tessa found herself nodded, “Yes, of course. Absolutely.” She pulled her hand away from his slowly, keeping her gaze on him as his eyes shifted. He readjusted in his seat, grabbing his glass and downing the rest of his beer in several gulps. “It’s not like I’m expecting this to happen within the next few days or anything.”

She was prepared to be patient, and felt silly for thinking that she’d expected him to have an answer for her tonight. They’d been apart for two years, living their own separate lives. He’d done so much for her over the past two-and-a-half decades, but this was something else entirely. How could she have expected him to agree so willingly? 

He nodded wordlessly. The waiter appeared again, leaving their bill. Both of them reached for the check but Tessa’s hand touched the leather binder first, his fingers lightly grazing hers as she pulled the bill toward her. 

“I’ve got it,” she offered, her other hand already working the clasp on her clutch. “My treat.” 

His hand fell away from the table and she busied herself with her task, finding her credit card and slipping it into the small portfolio, smiling at the waiter as he picked it up and carried it away. 

“Thanks,” Scott said, his voice low. 

“You’re welcome,” she responded, attempting to keep her voice light and high. “It’s the least I can do.” 

_Jesus Christ, Tessa. The least you can do for what? Is this your attempt to bribe him for a baby? Trading him a thirty-six-dollar steak for his genetic material? Was that the going rate for sperm now?_

Scott didn’t respond to that. She brushed her hair behind her ears, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as he stood, pushing his chair back. The waiter returned her credit card and she scribbled out a tip and signature, folding the bill back into the folder. She stood, glancing up towards Scott. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Scott offered her a tiny smile. 

As per their usual greeting, Tessa moved in for a hug, pressing her chest to Scott’s, settling against him. Her arms went around his neck, and just for a moment, she felt him stiffen in her touch. At the moment she began to pull away, she felt his hands come up, grazing her back with his fingertips. She felt the moment he eased in her touch, her breath coming unevenly in her chest as he hugged him to her. And it was as if she’d never asked this question, the awkwardness and hesitancy fading as she leaned into his touch. 

“Thank you for coming,” she breathed as he pulled away, her lips turning into a tiny smile. “Really, Scott. And… whatever you decide, I’m okay with that.” 

But was she? If he called her tomorrow or in a few days and said that he was sorry but that he wasn’t willing to donate his sperm to her, what would she do? Would she be able to compose herself until they got off the phone, or would she burst into tears right there as he listened, pitying her? The thought made her feel sick and her stomach clenched, but she forced herself to meet his eyes. 

His smile faltered, and then his head dipped in a nod. 

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” 

Tessa stood watching as Scott scurried out of the restaurant, disappearing around the corner before she’d had a chance to say another word. She wondered when she’d hear from him again, when she’d see him again, and if he realized how desperately she wanted to hear that one simple phrase he’d said so many times throughout their twenty-one-year career: _Anything for you, Tess._

*

_Jesus._

Scott somehow managed to find his way into the parking lot, falling into a taxi that was idling by the valet parking. He mumbled his address to the driver and watched as the lights of the restaurant faded into the distance. The car coasted down the wet streets of London and he caught his stark reflection in the clear glass window. 

His mind was reeling, his hands were trembling, and he knew that Tessa had seen his nerves. He’d tried his best to stay calm, but he was shit at hiding his emotions from her and she had to have seen past his forced façade. He thought of the way he’d laughed when she’d made the joke about David Beckham and swore under his breath. 

_Jesus._

Tessa wanted a baby. She wanted to be a mother. There were so many things Tessa was, so many things that she’d always been to him, but he’d never expected her to want to be a mother. She was competitive, dynamic, restless. She didn’t give up on something until she had perfected it, and she wouldn’t dive head first into a task without the absolute certainty that she’d master it. 

And in that sense, he supposed it made sense. She wanted to raise a child, she wanted to be able to give him or her all of the opportunities she’d had growing up, to see the ultimate culmination of her hard work and dedication wrapped into one perfect miniature version of herself. 

A miniature version of herself and Scott. 

_Jesus Christ._

But even if it made sense that Tessa wanted to be a mother (which, to be honest, he was still struggling to come to terms with) it made absolutely no sense why she would choose him of all people to procure genetic material from. She’d claimed it was simply because they were best friends, but they’d spent twenty-one-years side by side and he’d seen every sideways look she’d given him, every time she’d rolled her eyes at his jokes or shenanigans. The thought that she would want to recreate a smaller version of that left him feeling confused and somewhat mystified. 

The fact that somehow, within the last few months, she’d come to the steadfast conclusion that this was what she wanted, to be pregnant (by him, no less) was a jarring idea. He wondered what had been going through her mind, had wanted to ask her, but couldn’t find the words. Even now, as he drifted through the streets in the taxi, he glanced at the cellphone in his hands and wondered if he should call her, if he should demand to know her reasons. 

He wanted to know exactly why she’d asked him, beyond the excuses of friendship. He’d spend at least a few years out of their partnership pining after her, his lips brushing her skin on the ice and always hoping that she’d realize it wasn’t just a character he was playing. He’d spent time thinking about this very thing, her belly swollen with his child, only it hadn’t been like this. It hadn’t been a result of a series of doctor’s appointments and medical testing and sperm donations.

He’d wanted it to happen naturally, of course, but after the 2018 Olympics had passed and they’d spent several months touring, it became painfully obvious that he was involved in a one-sided romance, watching as she traveled the country and the world while he found comfort in ice rinks filled with amateur skaters. They’d begun to drift apart, seeing each other only a handful of times per year but keeping in contact with the convenience of modern technology. After the one-year anniversary of their Olympic win at Pyeongchang, he’d come to the conclusion that any chance they might have had at romance had passed and had allowed those dreams of Tessa carrying his children to fade into obscurity, into nothing more than distant memories. 

But now, she was asking him. She’d sought him out and asked him to help her make a baby. 

And, okay, maybe it wasn’t the way he’d sometimes imagined, but this was Tessa. She’d come to him undoubtedly with a list of research folded into her clutch, watching him with her gorgeous green eyes. If he’d asked, he was sure she could have provided him with a list of resources and academic articles that claimed the healthiest babies were born from parents who had been best friends for over two decades and had gone to three Olympics together. 

Instinctively, his first response was to agree. What Tessa wanted, Tessa got. That was the way they’d spent the majority of their lives; after all, Tessa was the smart one. What she said usually went, and not because Scott felt like he had to give into her whims lest she put an emotional wall up between them, but because she was the planner. She was the thinker and the rational one, and if Tessa was asking him for something, it was because she knew that it was the right decision. 

But this wasn’t on par with her usual requests. She wasn’t asking him to skate to one of her favorite songs or even to go on tour with her. She was asking him for something that would change both of their lives, and no matter if Tessa wanted him involved in the life of the child or not, it was unavoidable. He would see her belly growing, even if it was only through social media. He would see pictures of the child that he had helped create, and he would know, for the rest of his life, that a part of him and a part of Tessa had created a new life. 

He paid the taxi driver and made his way up to his front door, fumbling with his keys and realizing that, despite the ten-minute ride, his hands were still shaking. His mind was fuzzy and he’d only had three beers; it wasn’t because of the alcohol. 

As he climbed into bed he thought of Tessa’s face, the way her voice had trembled and quaked even though she’d tried so hard to disguise it. He thought of the way that she had looked at him with green eyes so full of hope, so fearful of his refusal. 

Eventually, he slept. At some point, he dreamed. 

And when he woke in the morning, he could only think of the green-eyed child that had filled his unconscious mind during the night, looking just like her mother and grinning crookedly at him, saying one word over and over: _Daddy._


	3. Chapter 3

When Tessa hadn’t heard from Scott by Monday, she began to assume the worst. She’d wanted to text him a hundred times, call him up and make casual conversation before saying: so, have you had enough time to consider whether or not you’re willing to give me a baby?

_Damnit_ , she had to stop thinking about it that way, even in jest. This wasn’t about Scott, not really. This was about Scott as a viable sperm donor, not a father. She didn’t expect him to be involved… wasn’t even sure if she wanted him to be involved, and that was part of the problem. She knew how badly he had always wanted children, and the thought of growing and raising a baby that he’d helped create made her feel a little guilty, thinking of him watching her child grow up from the outside.

She’d thought about having her sister draw up a contract that would prevent any confusion on his part, ensuring that she wouldn’t ask him for money or any kind of assistance. It would work as a precaution on both of their behalves, and for a moment she’d thought of having him sign away any rights to the child. Immediately after the thought had crossed her mind, she’d felt guilty. This was Scott, not some stranger. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone, and she’d come to the decision that if Scott did decide to go through with donating his sperm, she wouldn’t keep the child from him.

She had no interest in co-parenting with him, and in fact intended to relish the feat of single motherhood, but she loved Scott. He was her best friend, her partner-in-crime for the past two-and-a-half decades. If she wanted anyone by her side, it was him. She wondered, as she laid awake at night, if he would say yes, and if so, would he be want to be at the appointment with her when it happened? Would he want to hold her hand as the doctor inseminated her with his sperm? And Jesus Christ, his semen was going to be inside her.

The thought made her face flush and she wondered how the thought hadn’t truly occurred to her yet. Of course there was nothing sexual about it; it was a natural thing and absolutely necessary for procreation, but the thought of his actual sperm seeking out one of her eggs left her feeling like a fourteen-year-old in sexual education class. She thought of the time he’d kissed her at the Ilderton carnival when he’d been ten and the way her stomach had felt like a million butterflies had taken flight inside. She thought of the way their bodies had pressed together for the first several years after puberty had hit, the way she’d always been so breathless around him. She thought of how, even after two decades of skating together, she’d still felt that flutter of excitement when his had had found hers on the ice.

She sat now on her bed, legs crossed beneath her with the information she’d gathered regarding the procedure spread in front of her. She’d made lists and charts and had determined, down to the dollar, how much all of this would cost. She’d calculated the risks and the chances of the fertility treatment working the first time. Her doctor had provided her with the information, had sat and listened as Tessa talked and talked and wondered and worried aloud, and had finally told her to schedule an appointment once the donor was on board. That wouldn’t be a problem, she knew… if she could get him on board.

Her fingers rifled through the pamphlets and papers, hoping that the numbers and statistics made as much sense to Scott as they did to her, and knowing that they wouldn’t. Scott functioned on emotion, not statistics, not like her. He wouldn’t be persuaded by figures and charts and numbers. The only thing that might have any sway with him would be Tessa herself. Simply presenting him with the information might only make him focus on the logistics of the decision, and Tessa was prepared to deal fully with those herself.

With this thought in mind, she gathered the information into a neat pile and tightened a rubber band around it. She slipped the pile into a business envelope, marking his name in clear, large letters with a concise note sprawled beneath: Scott, for your consideration. She then stared at the words, shaking her head. It looked like she was submitting a script to him, and she thought about marking out the words, but decided that would make her appear too uptight and decided to leave them.

She held the heavy envelope in her hands, weighing the decision in her mind. She wanted him to have it. It was possible that he just needed more information, that he was scared to commit due to the lack of information he possessed, and wasn’t it her job to make sure he had all of the knowledge he needed to make an informed decision?

With the thought in her mind, she found herself in her car, on her way over to his house. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly, relaxing only after she noticed the tension in her hands. She tried to remind herself to breathe, that this decision didn’t seal her fate. That if Scott said no, there was always someone else, an anonymous donor that might make this situation easier and less confusing for everyone involved. 

But that donor wouldn’t be anyone she could know or trust like she did Scott. That donor wouldn’t have over two decades of her faith and commitment and wouldn’t have Scott’s hazel eyes, the eyes she’d spent the past two-and-a-half decades gazing into.

She pulled her car across the street from Scott’s house, hesitating for only a moment before grabbing the envelope from her passenger seat and pushing open her car door. She trudged across the street, the envelope feeling heavy and foreign in her hands. She thought about walking up the front path, knocking on the door and presenting him with the information, but the thought of coming face-to-face with him suddenly felt overwhelming and, somehow, frightening.

Tessa paused in the street, eyeing his front door and then moving instead toward his mailbox. She walked slowly, keeping her eyes on the closed front door. His car was in the driveway and his blinds were drawn, and she suddenly wondered what he was doing inside. It was Saturday morning, still early. Maybe he was settled at the breakfast table with his laptop, tiny glasses perched on the bridge of his nose as he reviewed his coaching notes.

She reached his mailbox and struggled to open it, the metal hook catching on the clasp designed to keep it closed. She furrowed her eyebrows, tucking the envelope beneath one arm and tugging at the tiny door with both hands, yanking with such force that the hinge snapped and the door came off in one swift motion. She stumbled back, blinking at the gaping mouth of the mailbox and the tiny door in her hand.

Motion caught her eye and she glanced up to see Scott standing in the open screen door of his home, his head tilted and eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a bemused smirk playing on his lips.

“Hey! I think it’s illegal to put non-stamped items in a mail-” He stopped, his eyes falling to the tiny metal door in her right hand. “Did you break my mailbox?”

She glanced down, her lips parting in surprise and embarrassment, hurriedly attempting to place it back into its designated spot as Scott made his way down the front path wearing lounge pants and his house shoes. He came to stand beside her as the door slipped from its casing and landed in the grass below. He looked toward Tessa, blinking.

“What do you have against mailboxes? Especially mine?” He stooped to pick up the door and studied the rusted hinges.

“I don’t…” she stammered, feeling the flush spread across her cheeks and into her chest. She looked away from him and into the morning sun, reaching beneath her arm and grabbing the envelope.

“Why did you decide to come over this morning and assault my mail box, anyway?” He asked, finally giving up on the hope of placing the door back into its spot. He eyed her for a moment and then noticed the envelope in her hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh,” she felt foolish suddenly, realized she should have just sent him a text message in the first place and glanced down at the envelope. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s obviously something,” he teased, “or my mailbox would still be in one piece.”

“It’s just some information,” she mumbled after a moment. “You know, about the thing we talked about?”

He didn’t answer immediately and she heard him clear his throat. She couldn’t look toward him, hated the way she suddenly felt so powerless and defenseless in his presence. She’d always been the dominant one in their relationship and that suited both of them. Being humbled before him now was unfamiliar territory. Still, she offered him the envelope and he hesitated for only a moment before taking it from her hands.

“Okay, thanks.” His words were simple but they felt damning to her, and by the time she turned to walk back to her car he’d already unclasped the envelope and had begun rifling through the documents inside. Before she’d even made it halfway across the street, his voice stopped her. “Tess?”

She turned, hopeful despite herself.

“Yeah?”

“You want to come inside?”

“Okay.”

She followed him, somewhat numbly, past the open-mouthed mailbox and up the path to his front door. He held the screen door open for her and she stepped inside followed by him. She stood in the hallway as he shut the door behind them and then guided her into the living room. She stood unsurely, hating herself. She’d been here a hundred times before, always sure of herself, kicking off her shoes and tossing her coat across a chair, collapsing onto the couch.

“You can sit down,” he mused, not waiting for her to move before settling into an overstuffed easy chair and placing the packet on his lap. He began to pull out the papers and Tessa cautiously moved to the sofa, watching with a strange mixture of pride and shame as he reviewed the pamphlets, spreadsheets, and medical data. He was quiet for a long moment as she sat watching him.

“I know I’m asking a lot,” she finally found her voice, and she watched as his fingers stiffened for the briefest of moments, pausing in his perusal of the papers. “But I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Can I just…” she paused. This wasn’t her, this fearful and hesitant woman, and it couldn’t be her if she intended to make this dream a reality. “Listen, Scott. I really want this. I know it may seem out of the blue for you, but it’s not for me. It’s something I’ve thought about, something I’ve done research on.” She gestured to the papers in his lap. “I’m not expecting anything from you, okay? I mean, money wise. I’m fully prepared to do this on my own. There’s just a few things you’ll need to do. Is it okay if I tell you about them?”

He was still staring at the papers in his lap, but then he nodded and met her eyes.

“Yeah.”

Relief flooded her and she began to speak.

“I’ve already met with the doctor. She knows my situation and she’s very understanding. All you’d have to do is get a physical, get some lab work...” she swallowed, feeling the lump rising in her throat. “You would have to provide a few donations of your genetic material, obviously.”

Her face flushed at the words and she glanced away from him. Jesus, she couldn’t believe she was talking to Scott about his sperm. They’d spent over twenty years together and he’d made plenty of jokes about his own bodily fluids, but she’d always been able to roll her eyes and shrug out of his touch, feigning disgust. Now she was literally asking him for his semen.

“So what you’re saying,” he mused after a moment, his dark eyes raising from the innocuous pamphlets in his lap to her flushed face, “is that I’m going to jerk off in a cup and the doctor’s going to put it inside you. You just want me for my jizz!”

“Jesus Christ, Scott,” Tessa hissed, turning away from him fully. She heard him cackle, her eyes focused on the cool white paint of the walls. She felt the deep pink flush rush over her exposed skin, her chest and cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. She clenched her jaw, focusing anywhere but Scott’s face.

“Tess,” he said her name after his laughter subsided and it took her a moment before she could look back at him. His lips were still curled into an amused smirk, and despite the fact that he was teasing her for growing flustered, his cheeks were a soft pink as well. “There’s no reason to be so embarrassed. If you really want this, that means my sperm is going to be inside you. This is no time to get flustered.”

And he was laughing again, but it was different this time; it was softer, almost nervous. She tried to steady her racing heart, her hands clenching in her lap. His words registered in her mind slowly, and despite the blush in her cheeks she met his eyes.

“What are you saying?”

He sat watching her silently for a moment and then gathered the papers in his lap, setting them on a side table.

“T, I’ve spent the last two-and-a-half decades with you. I’ve seen you at your best, and I’ve seen you at your worst, which is still a hell of a lot better than my best. I’ve watched you grow into the most magnificent woman I’ve ever met in my life. I’ve seen everything you’re capable of, and I know that when you make a decision, you make it because you know it’s the right choice.” She kept her gaze on him, focused on his words as well as the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. “And even though I’m honestly confused as hell about why you would want any part of me involved, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re going to be the best mom any kid could ever want.”

She felt tears sting the back of her eyes and pressed her lips together, determined not to let them fall.

“So… wait,” she felt breathless. “Does that mean you’re actually considering doing this?”

“Tess,” an easy smile slipped across his lips and he tilted his head at her. In his face she saw the same happiness he’d had in PyeongChang, the way his smile had reached his eyes and she’d known that she could overcome any obstacle just as long as she faced it with him at her side. “That means I’m saying yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a trigger warning for medical procedures and blood draws. It's not detailed, but just in case :)

Tessa arrived at the fertility clinic before Scott, but that was nothing new. She stood in the small waiting room just beyond the registration desk, fingernails nervously drumming on the marble counter. The secretary smiled at her from behind a veil of bangs, busying herself with her daily work as Tessa drew her phone from her purse and checked for a message from Scott.

He’d promised to be here on time despite the fact that he ran perpetually late, and she wondered how they’d managed to compete and perform for twenty-one years when he couldn’t seem to arrive on time to any of his own commitments. 

The secretary glanced up at Tessa and then towards her computer screen. 

“Are you waiting for your husband?” She asked curiously, offering her a friendly smile. 

“Uh,” Tessa’s voice caught in her throat and she glanced down at her phone. Her thumb swiped across the screen, activating her text messages when the door of the office opened and Scott stepped inside, shooting her a conciliatory smile before joining her at the desk. 

“Hey babe,” his voice was as smooth as silk and when he slipped his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek, she felt the impatience settling back inside of her, unable to hold her impatience at the sight of him. “Sorry I’m a little late.” 

“It’s okay,” she offered him a small smile, meeting the eyes of the secretary once again as Scott turned to face her, raising his eyebrows. 

“Okay, so what do I do?” He wondered, eyeing the pamphlets propped into a stand on the desk. “Where do I take my pants off?” 

The secretary’s eyes widened and Tessa swore softly beneath her breath, feeling the flush in her cheeks. 

“Scott,” she reprimanded him softly and he laughed. He sounded nervous and the way he cleared his throat only furthered her theory. 

“I’m kidding,” he offered softly, more to the secretary than to Tessa herself. Tessa shot an apologetic look at the woman behind the desk, and she stood, leading them down a short hallway to a series of doors. She motioned to an open door and invited them to take a seat, informing them that the doctor would be in shortly before disappearing back to her desk. 

Tessa lowered herself into a chair and Scott settled beside her. He glanced around the office, and she watched him discretely as his eyes studied the varied photographs of babies that decorated the walls. There were so many, all varying in age from newborn to several years old, ranging from wide smiles to shy grins, innocent faces reflecting some or all of the emotions Tessa herself was currently experiencing: joy, disbelief, affection. 

She glanced toward Scott and he offered her a tight, nervous smile before reaching for her hand. He squeezed her fingers in affirmation, meeting her eyes for a long moment before looking away. She kept her gaze on him, her lips parting in an attempt to thank him again for this, but there was nothing she could say. Thank you wasn’t enough, and she’d let those words spill from her lips so many times in the past ten days that she was sure they no longer conveyed her sincere appreciation. 

She’d spent the past week-and-a-half thinking of nothing but the way she’d felt when he’d tilted his head at her and told her that he would do this for her. She’d thought her heart would stop with the way it had beat in her chest, and she’d nearly burst into tears at the relief and happiness she’d felt. She hadn’t been able to speak, hadn’t been able to do anything but push herself off the couch and into his arms, wrapping herself around him and mumbling an incoherent rant of gratitude into his shoulder. 

He’d rubbed her back, held her to him, said nothing but _you’re welcome, T_. She had cried then, just a little, and she knew that the tears had sunk into his shirt, knew that he had to feel the wetness, but he’d said nothing. He averted his gaze and pretended not to notice when she wiped at her eyes, and it had done nothing but confirm that this was the right choice, that Scott was the only person who could ever fill this role, the only person who would ever make her feel this loved and special. 

The thought caused her to smile at him now, and he caught her eyes. 

“What?” He asked, the hint of a grin playing on his lips. 

“Nothing,” she responded, her voice catching unexpectedly in her throat. “I just… thank you. Again.” 

He watched her wordlessly for a moment before clasping her hand, bringing it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. 

“You don’t have to thank me, okay? I’m happy to do this for you.”

There was another emotion behind his hazel eyes, and Tessa thought that if she asked, he might be able to label it for her, but she hesitated. There was a but in there somewhere, she knew, even if he denied it, and she was too scared to find out what it was. But I’m fucking terrified, but I don’t know what I’m getting myself into… but what does this mean for our relationship?

She opened her mouth to speak and the office door opened, both of their heads turning toward the sound. A tall blonde woman wearing a green blouse and black skirt stepped in, immediately grinning at Tessa. 

“Doctor Blake,” Tessa smiled at her, green eyes tracking her as she moved into the office. 

“Hi, Tessa,” the doctor had a bright smile and offered her hand before turning her attention to Scott. “Hi, there. I’m Meredith Blake. You’re Scott?”

“I am,” Scott stood to shake her hand before glancing toward Tessa. “She told you about me, eh?”

Doctor Blake smiled, eyeing Scott before looking back to Tessa. 

“So how are you doing?” She wondered, “You’re back, so I take it that means you’ve decided to go through with the procedure?” 

Tessa felt both sets of eyes on her and nodded, her mouth suddenly growing dry. 

“I have. And I’m good. I’ve been taking the prenatal vitamins, just like you suggested. I’ve stopped my birth control. My period has been pretty regular.” She felt Scott balk beside her, turning his face away. Jesus, this was never going to get easier. No matter how long they’d both been adults, they both turned into pubescent teenagers when discussing these things. She tried to ignore the way he shifted uncomfortably in his chair and focused her attention on the woman in front of her. “So what’s next?” 

“Well,” the doctor smiled at Tessa, “there’s a few things we can get started today. First, we’ll get some blood tests started on Scott. We’ll get some blood for a genetic screening, as well, if you’re interested. We’ll also do an ultrasound to examine your ovaries and see how your eggs look. There are several types of treatment we can use if it looks like you’ll need some extra help in ovulating, but since you’ve never really tried to get pregnant up to this point, we won’t assume that you’ll have any trouble with it.” The doctor glanced toward Scott. “How are you feeling? Do you have any questions?” 

“Uh,” Scott glanced toward Tessa before looking back to the other woman. “Do I get to ask questions?” 

“Scott,” Tessa admonished him softly, drawing his attention. “Of course you do. You’re involved in this, too.” 

Was that the right thing to say? Did Scott have a say in this? Jesus, of course he did. He was just as much a part of this process as she was, he had every right to ask questions, to be concerned. Just as much was as risk for him. 

Scott blinked at her. 

“What’s the chance of this actually working?” He asked suddenly, quietly, sitting forward in his chair. “I mean, like right away?”

“Well,” the doctor glanced toward Tessa briefly, “depending on the quality of the eggs and the sperm sample that are involved, there’s about a five to thirty percent chance of success for each cycle. If the first cycle isn’t successful, we’ll try another two times before increasing the chance by performing the procedure twice during the same cycle.” 

Tessa looked toward Scott, whose eyes had traveled to her. She couldn’t help but to notice the way his gaze had moved to her lap, and then realized with startling clarity that he wasn’t looking at her lap, he was looking at her belly. He was imagining her pregnant, she knew suddenly, and the thought made her catch her breath. He met her eyes briefly before turning quickly back to the doctor. 

“What about multiples?” He asked suddenly, and Tessa felt her eyes narrowing, looking toward him. “Twins run in my family. Is there a…” he looked nervous suddenly, and Tessa felt her stomach sinking, wishing he would take a moment to breathe. “Is there an increased chance for multiple births?” 

The doctor offered him a bemused look before shaking her head. Tessa realized that in all the planning she’d done, she hadn’t accounted for this. The thought of Scott producing twins hadn’t occurred to her, and she suddenly felt unprepared and foolish. Of course there was the chance, and she suddenly thought of the possibility, her belly swollen with two babies, a single mother to two children who each needed all of her love and attention. The thought unexpectedly alarmed her.

“There’s always a chance,” she confirmed, “of producing multiples. However, the chance is actually much lower with the procedure we’ll be doing than it would be if you were reproducing naturally. We only implant one embryo at a time, so while the chance of having twins naturally is somewhere around three percent, our rates run much lower.” She glanced at Tessa, offering her a reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” 

Tessa nodded, and she saw Scott relax slightly in the chair beside her. He was nervous, she realized, and she was torn between wanting to comfort him and shake him, ask him what the hell did he have to be nervous about? She was the one undergoing the procedure, the one raising the child. 

The doctor ran through a quick overview of the procedure, answering any questions from Scott and being sure to shoot Tessa a knowing smile as she calmed each of his fears. She finally stood, directed Scott to the lab for bloodwork. Tessa hesitated beside him, watching as he sank into a padded chair and rolled his sleeve past his elbow.   
He watched as a nurse prepared a needle and several tubes to collect his blood. Scott’s eyes met hers as the nurse wiped his arm with an antibacterial wipe before tapping at his vein. 

“You owe me so much,” he hissed as the needle slipped into his vein and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tessa winced with him at the smart of the pain, reaching out to touch his shoulder. His eyes opened and he looked up at her. “You know I hate needles.” 

“I’m sorry,” she smiled softly at him. “I’ll take you out for ice cream after we leave.” 

Scott scoffed, blowing air through his lips. 

“Don’t pretend that’s for my benefit,” he teased, “that’s just an excuse for you to get two scoops of chocolate.” 

She laughed then, despite herself, and squeezed his shoulder. The nurse worked quickly and Tessa watched as the dark red liquid filled tube after tube. When the nurse withdrew the needle and wrapped Scott’s arm with a bandage, he sighed and sank into the chair. Tessa stood beside him until he straightened and joined her. The nurse led them into examination room and slipped through the door behind them, guiding Scott to a chair and nodding towards a paper sheet folded on an exam table with stirrups at the end. 

“I’m going to have you take off your pants and underwear and pull that sheet over your lap, okay? Your husband can stay in the room if he wants.”

“Oh,” Tessa laughed, glancing toward Scott, who was watching her with wide eyes. “No, no. Not husband. Not… well, not anything, really. Just a good friend.” 

“Oh,” the nurse smiled, her face pink in the dim light of the room. “Okay. Well, go ahead and get undressed. The doctor’s going to do an ultrasound to check out your ovaries.” 

“Uh,” Scott cleared his throat, glancing worriedly toward the tiny screen positioned near the table. “I thought an ultrasound was like… over the skin?” 

Tessa glanced at the machine and the wand that sat beside it. 

“A transvaginal ultrasound,” Tessa spoke, the realization occurring to her. “Internal, Scott.” 

*

“What?” It was the only thing he could think to say, looking desperately at the nurse before she slipped out of the room. “Oh. _Oh_ , I should not be here for this.” 

He watched as Tessa hesitated, pressing her fingertips together in the way he’d come to recognize as her nervous tic. She averted her gaze as her other hand joined in, one hand pressing against the other in an attempt to calm her nerves, her thumb and forefinger massaging the fleshy area of her other hand. 

“Unless,” he said after a moment, unable to look away from the way her slender fingers flexed, “you want me to stay?” 

He saw the relief flood her features and she turned away to hide the flush of dark pink that spread in her chest. 

“If you want to,” her voice was soft, and it made his heart ache. She was so vulnerable, still the young girl he’d known since ten-years-old, and she was terrified. This was all new for her, he realized, and no matter how much research she’d done, there was a difference between reading about and experiencing things. That was something Tessa still had trouble understanding. 

“Yeah, of course,” he found his voice, his eyes falling upon the folded paper sheet on the table. “I’ll just, uh, turn around while you, um… put that on.” 

“Okay,” she said softly, and he turned, focusing on the blinds that blocked the window. 

“Wow,” he mused aloud, desperate to hear something other than the rustling of Tessa stepping out of her pants, “these blinds are pretty dusty. You’d think they’d at least wipe them off each morning. But I guess not that many people pay attention to the blinds, eh? I mean, you-”

“Okay,” her voice came again, and he heard the rustling of paper. “I’m covered.”

Jesus Christ. Her voice was as soft as silk and just as delicate. He had to pause for a moment, gather himself before he turned to see her perched on the table, the paper blanket spread evenly over her lap. He clenched his jaw. He’d seen her in less, had seen her practically naked for years, but now she was actually naked. All that separated her bare lower half from him was a flimsy paper sheet that had already started to rip at the sides. 

He stifled a sigh, lowering his eyes to the stirrups at the edge of the table. 

“What are those?” He asked, realizing his stupidity a moment too late. 

Tessa’s eyes followed his gaze, her lips parting. 

“They’re for my…” she began. 

“Yeah, I got it,” he shook his head, wiping his hand over his face and through his hair. “Thanks, Tess.”

He heard her stifle a soft giggle beneath her breath and he rolled his eyes at her. 

God, she was beautiful. Her hair was half up, half down, the bottom layer cascading over her shoulders and back, falling in gentle waves. He wanted to reach out and touch her, trace his fingers over her cheek and watch as the flush extended from her cheeks to her neck. He wanted so badly to tell her how much he had missed her, how happy he was to be here now, even if he was straddling the line of aroused and empathetic. 

“Tess,” he said her name at the same time there was a knock at the door. Tessa’s green eyes looked toward him but softly called for the nurse to come in, and she entered the room before the doctor. 

“What is it, Scott?” Tessa asked, her attention focused fully on him, but with two extra sets of eyes in the room, he suddenly felt himself sinking back against a chair, shaking his head. His eyes traced over her, noticing the startling flash of her bare outer thigh.

“Nothing,” he whispered after a moment, “just… your sheet is uh…” he flicked his finger at the edges of the sheet, which had begun to slip past her skin, exposing her leg. She looked down, confused, and he crossed the small room quickly, tugging it down and tucking it beneath her thigh. She shifted, settling on the sheet and then gave him a soft smile. 

“Oh, thanks.”

He nodded, settling back against the chair as the doctor addressed Tessa again, advising her to scoot down to the edge of the table. She obeyed and he watched as she shifted her hips until her feet were positioned in the stirrups and her bottom presumably hovered at the edge of the examination table. He couldn’t stop watching her, the gentle curve of her hip even beneath the lumpy sheet, the way her head pressed heavy back against the table. He could see her bare calves, her feet resting in the stirrups. Her toes were painted a dark red, the color of blood, and he knew that if he were to reach out now and touch her foot, it would be cold. 

“I need you to spread your legs,” the doctor ordered, and Tessa hesitated for just a moment before her knees parted, her eyes meeting Scott’s. Scott felt his breath escape him and he glanced away, focusing on a diagram on the wall that displayed the stages of labor. He swore under his breath and found a new focal point; the cabinet just behind the doctor’s head. It was a safe spot to look, nothing more dangerous than encouraging young women to get their HPV vaccines. 

The doctor spoke to the nurse and from the corner of his eye, he saw movement. The doctor took the wand from its hook and squirted a generous amount of lube over the phallic-shaped head, positioning it between Tessa’s legs. God, he really, really shouldn’t be in here. 

“Scott,” Tessa breathed his name, drawing his attention. Her hand was extended, and it took him a moment to realize she was reaching for him. Mindlessly, he stood and crossed the small room. He took her hand wordlessly. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though wasn’t sure if it was to him or the doctor herself. 

“It’s okay,” he assured her despite his doubts, and he felt her fingers relax within his. 

“There might be a little bit of discomfort,” the doctor advised before the wand disappeared beneath the sheet and he heard Tessa hiss quietly. 

“Shh,” he found himself saying, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “You’re okay.” 

Tessa’s breath was uneven for a moment before the doctor shifted and an image appeared on the screen beside them. Tessa turned her head to look at the screen and Scott’s eyes followed. 

“Okay,” the doctor breathed, “here is your left ovary.” She indicated a distinct oval on the screen and then shifted the wand, causing Tessa to sigh in discomfort. After a moment, the doctor pointed to a small dark oval. “And here’s one of your eggs. This is a nice big one. This is what we want to see.” 

Scott watched the screen, his heart racing. Jesus, he’d been with this woman for two-and-a-half decades, spent the better part of his life learning about her, getting to know every intimate detail of her life and never stopping to think that beyond it all, she was a woman. A real woman with functioning reproductive parts and a body and mind that craved to do what it was created to do. 

Seeing her ovaries, her eggs, the dark areas not illuminated by the ultrasound, he realized how vulnerable Tessa was, how much it must have taken for her to ask him to do this. He thought of the way she’d perched on his couch, her green eyes full of concern and fear that he would deny her this request, and he’d thought about it. 

He’d thought about the years he’d spent secretly pining over her, the seasons he’d held her in his arms and the times he’d pressed his lips to her skin. He’d thought of their relationship now, how they spoke only on occasion and how he still thought of her and missed her smell, her touch. He’d thought about how this would change things between them, even if there was no sexual intercourse, no romantic feelings. The thought of her belly growing round and knowing that it was his sperm that had contributed to the child had given him pause. He thought of finding someone else, anyone else who wasn’t Tessa, and trying to find happiness with her while knowing that Tessa was raising their child alone. 

He'd thought about saying no, had even practiced saying it in front of a mirror. But he’d known that if he had said no, he would have been doing it for selfish reasons, and there was nothing he wanted more than to give Tessa all the happiness in the world. She had done so much for him over the past two decades. He had watched her grow and mature from a beautiful little girl into a beautiful woman and the fact that she had come to him specifically, asking him to help her become a mother had made him absolutely powerless to deny her.

And that was why he was here now, holding her hand as the doctor slipped the wand from inside her. He averted his gaze as Tessa shifted and sat up, the small sheet still situated haphazardly on her lap. 

“Well, everything looks good,” the doctor smiled up at Tessa, and then Scott. “We’ll start to process all of the blood work, and Scott, you can make an appointment to come back in a few days and submit an initial sperm sample, if that’s okay with you.”

Tessa looked up at him, her green eyes shining with an excitement that he’d seen only a few other times in their many years together. 

“Yeah,” he found himself nodding, “yeah, I can definitely do that.” 

“Great,” the doctor smiled and removed her gloves, washing her hands at the sink before turning back to face them. “There is one thing I’m curious about.”   
Tessa blinked, tilting her head a little. 

“Seeing as the two of you aren’t married, Scott won’t be automatically listed on the baby’s birth certificate when you give birth, Tessa.”

Scott clenched his jaw, glancing toward her. He noticed Tessa swallow, straighten her shoulders a little. 

“Okay.” 

“So…” the doctor paused, “I guess what I’m asking is, for the sake of custody, do you _plan_ to list Scott as the baby's father on the birth certificate?” 

He saw her stiffen, watched her lift her chin, open her mouth to speak. 

“I’m sorry, Tess, excuse me,” Scott slipped between them, Tessa watching him as he moved toward the office door. “Washroom. I’ll see you when you come out, okay?”

He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him, making his way to the washroom. He paused in front of the mirror, exhaling in a heavy sigh as he studied his reflection. 

It was better to be blissfully ignorant, he decided.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you may notice that I changed the rating of this story from Teen to Mature... and that's really because of two chapters, this being the first one. If you've read pretty much any of my other stories then you'll know I can get pretty graphic. I'm going to do my best not to do that, but there are a few times that I think the subject matter is a little more mature than appropriate for a Teen rating, so please don't let that discourage you from reading, and enjoy! Please let me know what you're thinking!

Scott stood by the wall in the hallway, arms crossed uncertainly over his chest as he watched couples pass by and branch into different rooms, many of the women with swollen bellies and the men protectively hovering beside them. He offered each of them a tiny smile and pressed himself closer to the wall to allow them to move past him. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Moir, it’ll just be a few more minutes,” one of the nurses caught his eye and he dipped his head in acknowledgement. “We’re getting a room ready for you.” 

“Oh, yeah,” he found his voice, “no problem.” 

Tessa appeared around the corner suddenly, grinning at him as she clutched her purse. 

He felt his breath catch in his throat, his lips curling into a smile inevitably at the sight of her. 

“Hey,” she ducked against the wall, pressing herself beside him. “You doing okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed after a moment, shooting her a reassuring glance. She mirrored his smile, her fingertips coming up to touch his bicep gently. 

“I appreciate you letting me be here,” she said after a quiet moment. “I know it’s not… well, I guess I just feel more connected to the whole process if I’m actually here, you know?” 

He looked toward her, studying her. Her green eyes were clear and focused, her pink lips turned up hopefully. Her fingers clutched his arm gently before falling back to her side. 

“This isn’t awkward for you, is it?” She asked a moment later, and despite his attempt to disguise it, a nervous chuckle slipped from between his lips. 

_Awkward? What could possibly be awkward about his best friend and skating partner of over two decades perched in a chair in a waiting room while he jerked off into a container? What could be even slightly uncomfortable about knowing Tessa was merely a few yards away from him while he ejaculated?_

“Awkward?” He laughed again, his voice cracking as he used his fingertips to rub at his temple. “No, not at all. Absolutely not.” 

She smiled a little brighter, and he wondered if she believed him. He was a terrible liar when it came to her. She pressed herself a little closer to him, the scent of her perfume rising to meet his nostrils and he swallowed, exhaling through his mouth.

“Okay,” she said softly, and once again her hand came up to touch his bicep, her fingers slipping up to his shoulder before squeezing him reassuringly. “Is there anything I can do for you?” 

Alarm bells went off in his head. 

_You can stop touching me_ , he wanted to say. _I’ve been abstaining from any kind of sexual activity for four days now and if you can’t keep your hands to yourself I might not make it into the actual donation room._

“Nope,” he breathed, forcing another smile to his lips. “I’m good.” 

“Okay, I just-” her voice came again, interrupted suddenly by a nurse who had appeared before them. 

“Mr. Moir? I’m sorry about your wait, but we have a room available for you now if you’ll just follow me.” 

He heard Tessa inhale quietly and turned to her. She reached out for his hand, squeezing his fingers gently. 

“Good luck.” 

“Uh…” he hesitated, and she seemed to realize her mistake. He watched as a flush colored her cheeks, spreading down her neck and into her chest, burning dark pink. “Thanks, Tess.”

He turned, following a nurse down the hallway and past several closed doors before coming to a small room. He stepped in, eyeing the sink and a large flat-screen television mounted on the wall before his gaze fell upon a chaise in the corner. It was leather, he noted, an ungodly blue color and situated just beneath a series of photographs on the wall. They were tasteful enough; black and white shots of bodies that straddled the line of pornographic and artistic. 

“Okay,” the nurse spoke suddenly, and he wondered how anyone got through a day of this job without dying of shame. “There’s a sink, a bookshelf, a television, obviously. There’s plenty of material for you to choose from, a library of DVDs and plenty of printed material.” She hesitated for a moment. “You can take as long as you need. When you’re finished, just clean yourself up and open the door. You can leave the donation container right on the edge of the sink.” 

The nurse picked up a small container with a sealed lid, shaking it in his direction before placing it back on the counter. 

“This is a sterile container,” she advised him. “You’ll need to get as much ejaculate as possible into the container, okay?” 

“Uh… okay,” he mumbled, glancing away from her. 

“Do you have any questions?” 

He shook his head, suddenly unable to make eye contact and feeling the heat rush to his cheeks. The nurse took another moment to re-explain the procedure, the next steps that would be taken, and advise him to relax before disappearing and shutting the door behind her. 

He hesitated for too long in the middle of the room, glancing around the beige walls before making his way over to the leather chaise. He perched cautiously on its edge, glancing at the bookshelf and reaching out for a magazine before settling back against the couch. 

He flipped through the publication, his eyes falling over the lewd images between the pages. Page after page of women, blonde, redheads, brunettes. Some of them exposed obscenely, others in various stages of undress. He pondered about some of the women, wondering what had led them to the decisions they had made to end up here in this magazine, subject to the fantasies of any man who found himself in this room. 

He tossed the magazine back onto the bookshelf and picked up another. He made it halfway through the book before abandoning that one, as well. He hesitated, wondering if he’d made a mistake. He wasn’t aroused, wasn’t even halfway turned-on. Then again, he’d never really relied on printed pornography for his release, and it was even more uncomfortable to be in a strange, clinical setting. 

He turned his attention toward the television and the shelf of DVDs beneath it. He browsed the collection, smirking to himself at the titles of some of the movies. All of them were beyond ridiculous, suggesting outlandish storylines or big-breasted women who were more plastic than the DVD boxes that housed the movies. He selected one, finally, ignoring the blurb that described a dancer who took up stripping to pay the rent for her big-city apartment. 

There was some semblance of a storyline, and despite his reservations he sank back onto the couch, finally unzipping his jeans and settling against the leather. He watched the movie for a long moment, the dark-haired star expressing her frustration as she struggled with paying her bills before receiving an offer to dance for some extra money.   
He watched the woman move, her lithe body twisting and gyrating. He expected to be turned on, but even as he palmed himself he realized that it wasn’t working. Jesus, he hadn’t had an orgasm in four days and he’d nearly come in his pants when Tessa had touched his arm. Now, she was waiting for him, just a matter of several yards away, and he found himself unable to get even halfway hard. 

But, then – 

_Oh._

The thought of Tessa again, her hand on his arm, her green eyes looking into his, he felt a stirring in his groin. He thought of her now, the dark hair of the woman on the television screen so achingly familiar. He thought of all of their years together, the way their bodies had touched, the way he’d felt the heat between her legs, her scent. 

Suddenly, he was hard in his own hand. 

He thought only of Tessa.

**

Tessa sat still in her chair, book spread on her lap. She was trying to focus; she’d read the same paragraph four times now and still couldn’t quite comprehend the character’s motivation. She glanced up and away from the page, toward the hallway to which Scott had disappeared. The nurses were milling about their business, answering phones and chatting casually. 

She couldn’t help but wonder about Scott. 

What was he doing? She wondered, and then felt the flush of heat rise in her cheeks. Of course, she knew what he was doing. He was doing exactly what she’d asked him to do, he was half-naked and touching himself. He was masturbating into a cup for her. 

She nearly groaned aloud at the thought. 

And though she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help but wonder what he might be thinking about. She considered the type of woman he preferred and tried not to think about the implications of that. She tried not to consider the fact that she’d been intimately involved with him in nearly every way over the past twenty-odd years and thought about how many times she’d ignored the bulge that pressed against her when she ground her body against his. 

She pressed her thighs together and closed the book. 

“All done,” she heard his words before she saw him. She glanced up and he met her eyes briefly before looking away. His cheeks were flushed pink and he looked warm. She stood. 

“Everything go okay?” She wondered. His eyes remained averted, focusing somewhere just behind her. 

“Yep,” he was quick to respond. “I think we’re good.” 

She paused, collected her things, and then reached out to touch his arm. She felt him stiffen at the interaction. She pulled away from him, searching his face. 

“Scott?” 

She heard him groan softly and, slowly, his eyes moved toward her. 

“I’m okay. I’m fine.”

She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach at the way he spoke, the way he seemed desperate to avoid her gaze. Her mouth felt dry and she felt sick suddenly. 

He was beginning to regret this decision. 

It was the only thing that made sense; the only reason he would draw away from her touch, keep his eyes lowered to the ground. It was the reason he couldn’t meet her gaze and the reason he seemed in a hurry to leave. He was regretting what he’d done, regretting that he’d agreed to this. 

“Are you sure? You don’t-”

“Tessa,” he spoke her name firmly, meeting her gaze for only a moment. “I’m fine. Okay? Can we just… can I go?” 

His voice, the firmness of it, startled her. She stepped back, speechless for a moment, and then nodded. 

“Oh, yeah. Yes, of course you can go. Thank you for coming for me.” 

His face flushed a deep pink. She sucked in her breath. 

“Not like that, Scott… I don’t mean… I mean, thank you for being here today.” She wanted to say more, but he had already turned and was headed toward the door. She hesitated for only a moment before following him out the door to the parking lot. 

She watched as he made his way to his car, her heart racing in her chest. Something was wrong. She knew him well enough to know that something was wrong. 

“It’s okay if you didn’t…” she spoke, her voice loud enough to stop him. She didn’t know what she was trying to say, wasn’t sure what he was trying to convey with his refusal to meet her eyes, his reluctance to be in her presence. She made her way a little closer to him. “I mean, if it didn’t… happen… I’m not mad. We can try again.”   
It appeared to take him a moment to understand her words, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. A matter of seconds later, his lips parted, his eyes widening. 

“No!” He cried suddenly, shaking his head. “No, that’s not… Jesus, Tessa, seriously?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged dismissively. “I’m just saying that if there was a problem, we can always-”

“Tess,” he said her name with a sigh and she quieted, her green eyes watching him. “That’s not the problem, okay? I just… this is kind of weird. Can we just catch up later?” 

She stood, watching, as he moved to climb into his car. 

“Yeah,” she nodded after a moment. “Okay.” 

He paused, opening his car door and turning back to her. 

“We’ll talk soon, okay?” 

She watched, wordlessly, as he slammed the car door shut and she listened as the car started. 

And then listened as the car’s engine died. 

She watched as he turned the ignition a few times, each time the engine refusing to turn over before shuddering into silence. She blinked at him and he glanced at her through the window. She stood, watching as he finally opened the car door again. 

“It’s been giving me trouble for a few days,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been busy with coaching and I haven’t had time to take it into the garage to be fixed.” He stepped out of the car and surveyed the vehicle. “I barely made it out of the driveway this morning. I’ll have to call a tow truck.”

Tessa moved to stand beside him. 

“I can drive you home.”

He was quiet most of the way. 

She tried to talk about something, anything other than the clinic. She asked him about coaching, about his plans for the near future. He answered, but only vaguely, and it wasn’t long before she had moved on to such mundane topics as the weather and sports. She hated this, feeling so disconnected from him and terrified that she had caused this sudden change in his character. 

“Scott,” she finally said his name as she coasted to a stop at a red light. She felt his eyes move to focus on her. Her heart pounded in her chest, her fingers gripped the steering wheel. She didn’t want to broach this topic, didn’t even want to put the thought in his head, but something was off and she felt the words pressing up her throat and out of her lips before she even had the chance to stop them. “If you’re having second thoughts about this, I understand.” 

She felt the tension in the moment, the way his gaze intensified. She wanted to look toward him but the shame kept her from meeting his eyes. 

“Tessa,” he said her name clearly, and she felt the tears burning her eyes before she even realized that she was starting to cry. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and clenched her jaw. “Tess, I’m not doubting this. Not at all. Not even for a second.” 

_Then what is it?_ She wanted to ask. _Why can’t you meet my eyes; why are you pulling away from my touch?_

He made a soft, displeased sound in the back of his throat before speaking again. 

“I’m worried,” he said after a moment, and she finally found the courage to look toward him. 

“Worried about what?” She couldn’t help but to ask. 

“About this,” he replied softly. “About me, I guess. Worried that I’m not, you know, _good enough_ to make this happen for you.” 

He sounded hesitant, his voice was small and afraid. She pressed the gas pedal, the car moving again. 

“Not good enough?” The question was in earnest, and she glanced toward him briefly. “What do you mean?” 

She heard him sigh softly. 

“What if my sperm isn’t strong enough? You know, I mean, what if we try and it doesn’t happen, and I just can’t… I don’t want to live with the knowledge that I disappointed you like this.” He paused for a moment. “What if I can’t make your dreams come true?” 

Tessa clutched the wheel, blinking. He quieted after a moment, and she glanced toward him. His eyes were focused on the road ahead of them. She furrowed her brows and pulled the car to the side of the road, bringing them to a gradual stop. When she sat back in her seat, he looked toward her.

“Scott,” she said his name quietly, reaching for his hand. He allowed her to take it, tangling her fingers with his as he studied their hands. “You could never disappoint me. Even if we try and this doesn’t work, you would never be a disappointment to me. You’re giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever dream of.”

He made a small, noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and his eyes finally focused on hers. 

“I mean it, okay? The fact that you’ve agreed to do this for me is unbelievable. I’ll never be able to tell you how much I appreciate this. I’ll never be able to show my gratitude. And if it doesn’t work…” she sighed softly. “If it doesn’t work, then you’ve already made my dreams come true by helping us get to three Olympics.”

She stroked his knuckles with her thumb, offering him a small smile. He returned the smile, his lips almost regretfully turning up at the edges. 

“Tess,” he said after a moment, speaking slowly. “I just want to make something clear.”

“Okay,” she nodded, still clutching his hand. 

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Finally, he spoke. 

“I just want you to know that I filled that container all the way to the top. Like, I could barely get the lid on.”

He grinned, breaking into laughter as she dropped his hand and wiped her palms on her pants before once again clutching the steering wheel. 

“Jesus, Scott, you’re disgusting.” 

She couldn’t keep the blush from rising in her cheeks.


	6. Chapter 6

Tessa couldn’t keep her leg still. She felt almost disconnected from it, could see the way her knee bounced nervously as she sat in the waiting room, could feel the impatience radiating from her. She tried to steady it, letting her hand rest against her right knee in an attempt to keep it still. She realized quickly that her nerves had gotten the best of her and that it took more focus and concentration than she could currently manage to stay still. 

She sighed softly, her chest rising and falling with the effort of her breaths. Her heart was racing in her chest and she was surprised that the noise wasn’t loud enough for Scott to hear as he perched beside her. 

“Tess,” he said her name softly and she glanced toward him. He looked inexplicably calm, and she couldn’t understand why. They were moments away from actually doing this, simply waiting for the nurse to call her name and lead them down a hallway to a room where the insemination process would occur. He watched her for a moment before reaching for the hand that had fallen onto her knee, his fingers wrapping around hers securely. “How are you feeling?” 

She watched their hands for a moment before allowing her fingers to, in turn, curl around his. He squeezed her hand, and when she met his eyes, he offered her a tiny smile. 

“I’m nervous,” she admitted after a moment, “I’m scared to death. What if this doesn’t work?” 

“Hey,” he drew her attention quickly, shaking his head a little when he caught her eye. “Don’t think like that, okay? Be positive.” 

He was saying the right things, and though her leg had stopped jumping, her heart was hammering in her chest. She wondered what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Was he the slightest bit nervous? Was he anxious at the idea of his sperm inside her, seeking out an egg? 

“Scott,” she said his name unsurely and he kept her gaze. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

He looked surprised for a moment, an easy smile slipping across his lips. 

“I’m so excited for you, T,” he said after a moment, pressing his lips together. 

She sat for a moment, surrounded by the idle chatter of the office before speaking again. 

“Be honest with me,” she said, her voice softer. She heard him clear his throat quietly. “Please.”

He was quiet for a long moment. 

“I don’t know if I’m more nervous that it won't work, or that it will,” he admitted after a long silence. She felt him settle beside her, heard the quiet intake of breath as he prepared to speak again. 

“Tessa?” A nurse called her name and both of their heads turned quickly to focus on the smiling young woman. Tessa hesitated for a moment, unable to find her feet. Scott squeezed her hand once more. 

“You ready?” He caught her eye and she nodded. He pulled her gently to her feet, still holding her hand as she moved in front of him. His hand only left hers once they were walking down the hallway, falling onto the back of her arm in a gentle manner as he guided her to the door of the office. She stepped in first and he followed, hesitating for a moment as she watched his eyes fall to the examination table. She cleared her throat and his eyes moved to hers. A faint smile slipped over his lips. 

“Okay, Tessa,” the doctor smiled at her. “It’s the big day. How are you feeling?” 

Tessa kept Scott’s eyes for another moment before her green gaze transferred to the doctor. 

“I’m okay,” she nodded, her loose hair brushing her shoulders. “I’m a little bit nervous.”

“Well,” the doctor smiled gently, “there’s no reason to be nervous. As you know, the procedure itself is really simple and quick. It will take us less than five minutes to actually perform. At that point, it’s really just up to Scott’s sperm to find the egg we’ve released.” 

Tessa turned to Scott at his soft laughter. 

“Yeah, no pressure,” he wiped a hand over the back of his neck, shaking his head. Tessa reached for him, her hand lingering on his arm for a moment as he met her eyes. 

“It’s okay,” she smiled, doing her best to reassure him. “Everything’s going to work out.” 

He seemed to calm at her touch before nodding. 

Tessa turned away from him, eyeing the exam table. Another paper sheet was folded on top, and she moved to grab it. Scott watched her as she traced the sharp folds with her finger before he backed toward the door. 

“I’ll just… I’ll wait outside.” He was already halfway out the door before she called to him. 

“Are you coming back?” She hated the desperation in her voice, and the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her. She was prepared to take on the world as a single mother, but the idea of going through this procedure, maybe this entire pregnancy, without him by her side terrified her. 

“Uh,” he paused, glancing first at the doctor and then back to her. “Do you want me to come back?” 

She felt her breath catch, glanced toward the materials spread on a metal tray beside her, and then nodded. 

“Yes, please.” 

Her voice was so soft, catching in her throat, and she suddenly had to avert her eyes from him. 

“Then I’m coming back,” he said, his voice sounding much more sure than she felt. She nodded, watching as he slipped from the room and shut the door behind him to allow her to remove her pants. 

She hesitated for only a moment before unzipping her jeans and shimmying out of them. Her panties slid down her thighs, pooling at her feet with her pants as she stepped out of them. She picked up her clothing and folded it carefully, placing her jeans in a chair before slipping onto the exam table and pulling the sheet over her lap. 

She paused for only a moment before calling out, watching Scott’s head appear around the door as he opened it. She felt the relieved smile press across her lips as he slipped back inside, hesitating for a moment as he decided whether to sit in the empty chair or hover beside her. He decided to hover and rested his hand awkwardly on the back of the exam table before apparently deciding to cross his arms over his chest. 

The doctor appeared a moment later, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and shutting the office door as the nurse slid in behind her. Tessa watched wordlessly as the doctor prepared a syringe an impossibly thin tube connected to the end. The doctor caught her eye and spoke. 

“This is the tool we’ll be using,” she informed her, “We’ll insert the line directly into your uterus, the sperm will travel through this little tube and make their way their way into your uterine tube. At that point, the sperm will travel to your egg and, with any luck, fertilization will occur.” The doctor eyed Tessa. “Do you have any questions?” 

Tessa looked to Scott, his eyes focused on the tube, his lips pressed together in a thin line. Tessa reached for his hand and he glanced toward her, the edges of his lips curling into a smile. Tessa looked towards their hands for a moment before shaking her head. 

“No. I don’t have any questions. Scott?” 

He looked surprised then, blinking at her before shaking his head. There were questions on his mind, she knew. There were so many things he wanted to ask, and she worried for a moment that this was too much for him. This was his last moment to turn back, to deny her request and tell her to find someone else. Her lips parted with the question; are you sure this is okay? But she knew his answer. No matter what was currently going through his mind, he’d never let her doubt that this was less than ideal. 

He didn’t speak, and she wondered if he even could. He shook his head and Tessa turned, shifting on the table. 

“All right,” the doctor smiled, “Tessa, I need you to scoot to the edge of the table.” 

Tessa did as requested, her feet automatically slipping into the stirrups, her knees spreading as the sheet fell over her lap. Her heart pounded in her chest, the cool air of the office slipping between her thighs, causing her to shudder slightly. She gripped Scott’s hand and heard him clear his throat. When she was positioned at the edge of the table, the doctor stepped between her legs and slid on a face mask. 

“You’re barely going to feel anything,” the woman promised, placing one hand on Tessa’s inner thigh, “but I need you to keep your legs apart for me.” 

This was invasive in all regards, but somehow the thought of Scott watching this felt far more intrusive. She tried to shift to see his face but his position left her unable to do so and she turned her head to the side, the paper on the table wrinkling beneath her cheek as she rested there. Her eyes fell open their hands and she felt a moment of discomfort as the doctor slid the small tube inside her. She made a small sound in the back of her throat and suddenly Scott was there, settling into the chair beside her, and she could see his face. His eyes were focused on her face, looking nowhere but her own eyes. 

“You’ve got this,” he leaned toward her, and the hand that wasn’t holding hers gently began to stroke her dark hair. His hand on her head felt so nice, so soothing, that she focused solely on his touch. His fingers stroked her scalp gently, his eyes studying her face and never looking away, even as the sheet shifted on her lap. “You’re doing so great, T. You’re almost done.”

“Make that all done,” the doctor spoke suddenly, slipping off the stool that she had situated between Tessa’s legs and moving towards the sink. “I’d like you to stay there for about fifteen minutes. I’ll let you know when you’re good to go.” 

Tessa turned her head toward the doctor, watching as she washed her hands, her legs still parted, toes curled in the stirrups. 

“What if she moves?” Scott asked suddenly, taking the question directly from Tessa’s lips. “Is it… will it leak out?” He glanced toward her. 

“No,” the doctor laughed, “the sperm was implanted directly into her uterus. She might have some discharge, but that’s just some mucus that’s been discharged.” She turned toward Tessa. “The reason you’ll want to stay still is because you may experience some dizziness or discomfort. When you’re sure you’re feeling okay, you’re welcome to leave. You can resume your normal activities if you’re feeling okay, just… maybe stay off the ice today.”

Tessa laughed, her stomach muscles contracting with the action, and she glanced down at her flat stomach beneath her shirt. She thought of her ab muscles becoming less defined as her belly swelled with a baby, thought of seeing that firm bump beneath her shirt, and her eyes burned with tears for a brief moment before Scott drew her attention. 

“Is she okay to be alone?” His voice held such concern that Tessa felt the smile curl her lips before the doctor even spoke. 

“As long as she’s feeling okay,” the woman replied. “Tessa, you might have some cramping, maybe a little discharge, but there’s no major complications.” 

“Okay,” Tessa heard herself saying, nodding. The doctor advised Tessa to redress and slipped from the room. Scott moved to follow her, but Tessa kept his hand, tugging gently as he turned to look at her. 

She had lowered her legs but still rested against the table, and Scott’s eyes absentmindedly scanned her body before seeming to realize that she was still slightly undisposed, focusing on her face. 

“Thank you,” she said when he caught her gaze. “Thank you so much, Scott.” 

All at once, she felt emotion overwhelm her and tears burned her eyes, slipping down her cheeks and onto the thin protective sheet of paper before she had a chance to wipe them away. Before her hand could slip from his, he was hovering beside her again, his steady thumbs wiping the moisture from her cheeks. 

“Hey, hey,” he spoke, and she raised her eyes uncertainly to him, “you don’t have to thank me anymore, okay? I did this because I wanted to. You’re not twisting my arm. You asked me, and I said yes. I want to do this for you, Tess. Okay?” 

She swallowed hard, still watching him, tear streaks cool on her cheeks. 

“Okay,” she nodded after a moment. “Okay.” 

He smiled, taking her hand again gently. He appeared to hesitate for a moment before leaning forward, pressing his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss. He settled into the chair beside her again, studying her face. 

“How are you feeling?” 

She raised her eyes to look at him, her back pressed against the firm cushion of the exam table. 

“I’m terrified,” she said simply, and then laughed. A moment later, he was laughing, too. 

*

“Scott, you really don’t have to do this,” she glanced behind her as he followed her into her house, shutting the door gently as he entered. “You heard the doctor. I’m totally fine to be alone.” 

“But you shouldn’t be alone,” he countered, following her through the hallway and into the dining room. “Not right now.” 

She turned to look at him. He stood awkwardly, watching her. His black t-shirt hugged his biceps and she wondered, just for a moment, if his abs still rippled beneath his shirt. It had been so long since she’d seen him in anything more revealing than jeans and a t-shirt. She thought of the way his muscles had once been hard and sharp beneath her fingers and the fleeting impulse to tug at the bottom of his shirt crossed her mind. Hormones, she decided. 

She’d been taking a cocktail of medicines prescribed to her by the doctor, pills to stimulate ovulation and prepare her body for the intrusion of his sperm. That’s what this was, she knew. Her hormones were going haywire, her brain couldn’t comprehend all of the neural connections that were being formed and she was desperate to make sense of it.   
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what Scott’s core looked like now, two years after their last Olympic games. 

“I’m okay!” She insisted, moving through the kitchen and turning to open the cupboard above her head. The white wooden door swung open and she leaned forward, pushing herself onto her tiptoes and reaching for a mug on the second-highest shelf. It evaded her reach and she pushed herself onto the counter, her knees settling against the marble as she rested on the ledge. 

“Tessa, no!” Scott turned the corner, crying out for her just as her fingers brushed the handle of the mug and she jerked instinctively, knocking it off of the shelf and onto the floor, watching in dismay as it shattered. His arms were encasing her suddenly, lifting her off the counter and stepping away from the broken glass before placing her feet on the floor. “What are you doing!?” 

“What are _you_ doing?” She countered, staring at Scott before glancing toward the remains of the cup. “That was my favorite mug, Scott!”

“You can’t just climb up on the counter like that!” He sounded desperate, already moving toward the closet and pulling out a broom and dustpan before moving back to the mess. 

“Why the hell not?” She demanded, her eyes drawn to the glass splintered on the floor as he began to gather the shards with the broom. 

“Because you’re preg-” He stopped himself, his hands pausing in their actions. He glanced up at her, his dark eyes suddenly full of concern. “You just could have fallen, okay? It’s not safe.” 

Tessa felt the anger leave her body, her shoulders falling forward. She stood wordlessly, watching as he gathered the glass into the dustpan before dumping it into the trash can. He busied himself with sweeping the rest of the floor, his eyes avoiding hers, and she wondered if it was purposeful. 

Slowly, she moved to the island counter and settled into one of the seats, reaching for a banana and peeling it slowly as she watched him move. She chewed in silence, swallowed, and then spoke. 

“Do you really think I am?” 

She noticed the slightest of reactions, the way his shoulders tensed as he finished sweeping and moved to put the broom and dustpan back into the closet. He didn’t respond, at least not at first, and it took a moment before he joined her at the island, elbows pressed against the cool marble. 

“I think if anyone could get this right the first time, it’s you,” he said after a moment. When he met her eyes, she felt the blush creep across her cheeks. 

“You mean us,” she clarified, and watched as the warmth spread from his neck. 

“Nah,” he said, after a moment, his voice suddenly sounding low and sad, “you’re the one doing all the hard work. I just get to watch it happen.” 

She didn’t like the way he sounded suddenly, couldn’t stand the sadness in his voice, the hurt in his eyes. It was a sudden reminder that he was only here temporarily, that he would have to go back to his life soon and there wouldn’t be a hand to hold at doctor’s appointments, protective arms to wrap around her when she did something as innocently foolish as climbing onto her counter without realizing that she suddenly needed to be more aware of her surroundings. 

She tried to imagine suddenly what life would be like without him, carrying his- no, _her_ child without him around. 

“I’m sorry about your mug,” he said after a moment, guiltily meeting her eyes. The sadness on his face made her sigh and she rolled her eyes. 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, eyeing him playfully, “I guess you’ll just have to buy me a new one.” 

“That I can do,” he said happily, and she was thankful for the sudden change in his tone. “Maybe I’ll get you one that says _World’s Best Mom_.” 

She laughed, shaking her head. 

“I think we should at least wait for a positive test result before you do that.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he slid into a seat next to hers, took the banana from her hand, and took a large bite. He chewed thoughtfully, grinning at her around a mouth full of mush before swallowing. “And if this doesn’t work, I guess we’ll just have to go about it the old-fashioned way.”

Tessa blanched, looking toward him. Her palms were suddenly damp with perspiration.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, T, you have _no_ idea,” he grinned.

And Tessa wondered if he was right.


	7. Chapter 7

Scott paused outside Tessa’s front door, his arms holding an oversized paper bag, attempting to balance a coffee and container of orange juice on the edges of his arms. He attempted to reach out to knock on the door, but the items in his arms wavered and he hesitated, instead using the toe of his shoe to kick gently at the door. 

There was no sound from inside, no indication that Tessa had heard him at first, and then the front door was being pulled open and Tessa greeted him with a grin, taking the beverages out of his arms and pushing the door open with her hip as he stepped inside. 

“You made it,” she grinned at him, and he was suddenly overwhelmed by her beauty. She was bare-faced, her hair pulled into a messy bun and dressed in lounge clothes. Her smile was a little crooked and he could see the worry in her eyes, but she hid it well. Her tiny feet were bare and her toenails were painted a burgundy color that contrasted the pale of her skin. 

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, following her into the kitchen and placing the bag on the island counter. “I told you I’d bring breakfast, eh?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled at him, her fingertips pulling at the edge of the bag to peer inside. “You got my eggs?” 

“I got your eggs,” he rolled his eyes at her, watching as she reached into the bag and retrieved a carton. She opened the box and smiled before glancing back up at him. “Thank you.” 

He returned her grin, reaching into the bag and pulling out a small container of fruit before sliding it toward her. She eyed the plastic container, one eyebrow raising questionably. 

“What’s that?” 

“That,” he spoke slowly, peeling open his own container of food, “is a mixture of guava, mango, and apricot.” He watched the corner of her lips peel up in disgust. “Call it your pregnancy superfoods.” 

Tessa tilted her head, looking up at him. 

“I’ve been eating plenty of fruit and taking my vitamins. And besides, we don’t even know…” her voice faded and he caught her gaze. Her eyes were focused on the small plastic cup, and he wondered what was going through her mind. He wanted to ask her about the things he’d spent the past two weeks reading about each night before sleep. He wanted to ask if her breasts were swollen, painful, if she’d been experiencing discharge. He wanted to ask her the most private, intimate things that he’d never in his wildest dreams wanted to hear Tessa tell him. He’d always shied away from hearing about her periods, her menstrual cramps, all of the other private feminine details she’d considered fair knowledge in the history of their friendship.

And now he couldn’t help but wonder, to be concerned about if she’d experienced any of the spotting he’d read could occur in pregnant women. He wondered if she’d been lying awake at night, worrying that the procedure hadn’t worked, or worse, fearing that it had and that something had gone wrong. 

And even though he’d been the one holding her hand as his sperm had been placed inside her, he didn’t want to overwhelm her. Tessa had already decided to go through this journey on her own, and as much as it pained him, he knew that he was only a temporary fixture. She wanted him beside her for the frightening moments; she always had. She wanted him to be there when she was uncertain and needed reassurance, but once she started to become more sure of herself, he would almost certainly be expected to return to his life without her. And she would continue hers without him. With their child.

“Well, we’re going to find out, yeah?” He reached out, his fingertips brushing the sharp edges of her jaw, drawing her eyes up to him. 

“Yeah,” she nodded after a moment. “It’s been exactly two weeks since the procedure.” She wrinkled her nose at him suddenly, smiling. “She said to take the test in the morning in the morning when my urine is the most concentrated.”

“Okay, yeah,” Scott nodded, his eyes focused on her. 

“And I really need to pee,” Tessa added.

“Oh,” he breathed, suddenly nodding again. “Okay. Yeah. Do you want to eat first?” 

He watched as she glanced down at the poached eggs before her, and then smiled tightly back up at him. 

“I think I need to know first,” came her quiet reply. “Is that okay?”

Scott’s tongue darted to wet his lips, his skin suddenly flushed with the realization of the moment. Shit, this was happening. They were literally minutes away from defining the rest of their lives. 

“Okay,” he said once again, and in a silent agreement, Tessa pushed herself away from the island counter and made her way toward the washroom, Scott following her. He stayed a few steps behind her as she entered the washroom, opening the medicine cabinet and retrieving the rectangular box that held the pregnancy test. She held it in her hands for a moment before her eyes met his. 

“I need a cup,” she said softly, and he was already rushing to the kitchen, grabbing a disposable coffee cup from beside the machine and hurrying back to the bathroom. She hadn’t moved and was standing still, her fingers clutching the box. “Thank you.” 

He placed the cup on the counter and she raised her eyes to his. 

“I’ll wait outside while you…” 

“Yeah,” she whispered, “okay.” 

He stepped out of the washroom and stood just outside the door, pulling it shut behind him. He stood still, arms crossed over his chest, back pressed against the wall. He tried to focus on his breathing, tried to steady it the way he and Tessa had done so many dozens of times over the years, but without her it was nearly impossible to slow the beat of his heart. 

It felt like he stood outside the door forever, and he wondered what was taking her so damn long to pee. 

“Tess? You okay in there?”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and then her quiet reply came. 

“I’m trying to pee.” 

“Oh,” he said softly. He thought of the many times they’d been drug tested, the way he’d stood before the toilet for long periods of time, waiting for the stream of urine to come. “You have some performance anxiety? Did you try turning on the faucet?” 

“Scott…” he heard her chastise him, her voice impatient. He pressed his forehead against the door.

“Just try it,” he encouraged her, his voice even and steady, “it always helps me.” 

“I don’t need to turn on the faucet,” her reply came, a frustrated sigh tacked onto the end of her sentence. 

Scott straightened, pressing his back to the door once again. A moment later, he heard her shuffling around in the bathroom and then the faucet was on, water flooding into the sink. He tried to suppress the smile that threatened to press across his lips. After a minute, the water was turned off and she pulled the bathroom door open. She was flushed, he realized, and his eyes darted to the cup on the sink, the pregnancy test settled inside. 

“And now we wait,” she spoke, smiling gently at him. She was doing her best to keep a brave face, but if the tremble in her voice was anything, he knew that she was scared to death. “It says two minutes, but I mean it’s already been like thirty seconds, so it should be-”

And there was the undeniable proof that she was nervous; her idle chatter. She’d been so quiet when they’d been young, he’d been the one who filled their silences with his anxious talk, and then at some point, it had flipped. He’d become quiet, brooding, and she’d turned into the young woman who spoke when there was nothing to say and no one to listen. 

“Tess,” he cut her off and she blinked up at him, seeming surprised to see him. “If it’s not…I mean, I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.” 

_I don’t want your heart to be broken_ , he wanted to say. _The thought of you looking at that test and seeing a negative result is going to kill me. The idea of watching your face fall with the realization that you’re not pregnant isn’t something I’m sure I can handle._

He’d spent every moment of the last two weeks hoping to God that the little screen on the pregnancy test would read pregnant; he’d convinced himself of it, told himself that Tessa had put her mind to making this work and that anything Tessa committed herself to was as good as done. It almost hadn’t really occurred to him, until now, that there was a very real possibility that the procedure hadn’t worked, that his sperm hadn’t sought out one of her eggs. He hadn’t really let himself consider the fact that they might need to go through this routine two, three, six times before her egg accepted his sperm. 

“Scott,” she said his name, the certainty in her voice instilling confidence within him, “I think it worked. I just feel different. I guess I can’t really explain it, but I think-”

The alarm on her phone buzzed and she turned quickly, glancing toward it. She rushed toward the sink and before she could even ask, he was moving into the washroom behind her. She picked up her phone, turned off the alarm and then hesitated. She turned toward him, her lips parted, and looked for a moment as if she wanted to speak before she moved to the cup and lifted the test. 

She held it in her fingers for a moment, her eyes focused solely on him. 

“You don’t know how much I appreciate all of this, Scott. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. I’ve spent the past three months thinking only of this day, and the fact that you’re the one standing here with me makes me happier than you could possibly know.” She smiled at him then; a real smile, one that showed all of her teeth and the dimples in her cheeks. It met her eyes, and he wanted to move across the room and take her into his arms, kiss her and thank her for allowing him to be a part of this miracle. 

The smile still etched onto her face, her eyes lowered to the test in her hand. There was no distinct change, no falter in the curve of her lips, her eyes didn’t blink.  
But he saw the way her shoulders fall slightly told him what he had already known in the back of his mind. 

“It didn’t work, did it?” He asked the words before Tessa even needed to say them.

**

She wanted to turn away from him, clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes at the test. She wanted to throw the test down and run out of the room, into her bedroom, lock the door behind her and throw herself onto the bed. But she knew he was watching her, she knew that his focus was solely on her and that he was liable to react to any movement she might make. 

“That’s okay,” she forced the smile to her face, her fingers placing the test that read _not pregnant_ back on the bathroom counter. She hesitated for a moment before lifting her hand, brushing her dark hair from her face. And even before she spoke again, she knew her voice would break with the devastation rising in her chest. “We can try again, like you said.” 

He was quiet, so quiet that if she hadn’t been able to see him from the corner of her eye, she might have thought he’d left. But he was there and she suddenly knew that she had to get out of this bathroom and away from him. She needed to be somewhere without him, somewhere she could cry and scream and let the tears run down her cheeks without him pitying her. She had to avert her eyes to avoid him and let her feet carry her across the bathroom floor and out of the door, sweeping past him. 

“Tess,” he reached for her, but she was already passing him, brushing his fingers away from her as she moved down the hall and back to the kitchen. She busied herself with the coffee machine, inserting a pod into the cup holder and closing the lid, watching as it buzzed to life. She reached for a disposable cup, put it under the stream of hot water and stood, her fingers curling on the counter. 

She heard him enter the room behind her, heard him stop a few feet away from her and heard him draw a breath. 

“Tess, what are you doing?” 

His voice was so soft and she knew that if she looked at him now, the tears would start to fall and she wouldn’t be able to stop them. He sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself, and she couldn’t force herself to turn and look at him. 

“I’m making coffee,” she answered simply, making every attempt to keep her voice steady. Doing everything she could to ensure that he wouldn’t hear the tremble in her tone. “I haven’t had any in over two weeks and at least now I know it’s okay for me to drink it.” 

She thought sadly of the abandoned poached eggs on the counter, the way Scott had thought of the non-existent baby when he’d ordered the fruit cup that had contained, as he’d called them, her pregnancy superfoods. She thought of eating them now and it made her stomach turn.

“Tessa?” He was still behind her, and from the volume of his voice, she guessed he had moved closer. “Talk to me.”

She stood still, her eyes watching the steaming liquid fill the disposable cup. She thought of the ache in her heart, the sudden overwhelming emptiness in her womb. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she spoke, but before she’d even had a chance to think about it, she was saying more: “I just thought… I was so sure, Scott.” 

All of the signs had been there, she’d thought. Her period hadn’t started, her breasts had felt swollen and sensitive. She’d had a few instances of nausea and had taken them in stride, believing all along that the symptoms were the tell-tale sign of the baby growing within her. She realized now that these were all psychosomatic symptoms; her mind had believed so strongly that this procedure had worked that it had conveyed that message to her body.

“But we can try again,” he was moving closer now, his fingertips just barely brushing her lower back. “They warned us that that it might not work the first time. They told us we might have to try again.” 

And though they were meant to soothe her, his words made her ache. He had been so confident, as well. He’d ensured her that this would go off without a hitch, that if there were any two people in the world who could make it work the first time, it was them. And though she’d known to prepare for the worst in the back of her mind, she had hoped for the best. 

“And maybe it’s just too early to tell,” he offered again, his hand now pressing fully against her back. “Maybe you should try another test, or you can go to-”

“Pregnancy tests can typically project positive results from the eighth day after conception,” she interrupted, her eyes still focused on the hot cup of coffee before her. “It’s been fourteen days. I used the exact test the doctor recommended. It’s the most sensitive brand.” 

He quieted, his hand falling away from her back. When she reached for the cup, she realized her hand was trembling and pulled away before she was sure Scott saw. 

“It’s fine,” she whispered, raising her eyes to the muted artwork framed on the kitchen wall. The off-whites and soft-blues had always been so comforting, had always made her feel clean and safe and in control. But now, she felt none of those things. And then, before she even had a chance to truly think about what she was saying, the words slipped from her in a quiet whimper. 

“I guess my body is made to win medals, not make babies.” 

Despite the strength she wanted to convey, the way she wanted to smile and guide Scott out of her house and reassure him that everything was fine, her shoulders began to heave with sobs. She buried her head in her hands and there was only a moment’s hesitation before she felt Scott’s arms wrapping around her, turning her to him and pulling her to his chest. 

“Tess,” he soothed her, his hands stroking her back, her hair, clutching her to him. “T, no, don’t say that. That’s not true.” 

But in that moment, it felt true to Tessa. She wasn’t used to failing, wasn’t used to being so desperately disappointed in something that she’d honestly believed would happen for her. Even when they’d stood on that Olympic podium in 2014 and accepted the silver medals around their neck, they’d made an impact, they’d done something. For all the worry and work they’d done, they’d been recognized. Now, there was nothing to show for all the time she’d spent fanatically creating the plans and graphs and organizing information to prepare her for the successful implantation. 

“Maybe it’s my fault,” she heard herself say through the tears that now flowed freely, “Maybe I just can’t do this.”

“Hey,” his breath was hot against her ear and she knew he wanted her to look at him, but she buried her face in his shoulder, the feeling of his strong arms encircling her too much for her to resist. “Hey, T, look at me.” 

She resisted for another moment before she felt his finger on her chin, tilting her face towards his. 

“It’s not you, okay? You’re…” his eyes traced her face, catching on her lips for a brief moment before meeting her gaze again. “You’re perfect. Your body is perfect. This isn’t anything that you did or didn’t do. It’s just a matter of whether or not biology chose the perfect moment to let my sperm find your egg, okay? I mean… shit,” he paused for a moment, and then shook his head gently. “If anyone’s to blame for this not working the first time, it’s me, because Jesus, Tessa, I genuinely believe that if anyone could make this happen, it’s you.” 

“No,” she said softly, feeling the swelling in her eyes, “Scott, no. I wouldn’t… it’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t yours either,” he said once again, more firmly this time. “Okay? I’m not letting you take blame for this. It’s just something that either happens or doesn’t happen. You’ve done literally everything you could to make yourself ready for this.” 

Tessa let her eyes fall, focused on the slight stubble on his chin. She wondered if he’d had a chance to shave this morning, and for just a moment, the ache in her heart subsided. She wanted to trace her fingers over the short dark stubble, anything to make her feel more connected to him in this moment, to draw attention away from the emptiness in her chest. 

“Do you believe me?” His question caught her off guard and she met his eyes once more. Her lips parted, prepared to lie to him, but the sadness in his eyes made her pause. 

“I don’t know,” she said finally, the warmth of another tear slipping down her cheek. “I wish I did.” 

He pulled back from her then, his eyes scanning her face. His hands moved up her back, over her arms, gently moving to frame her face. His thumbs brushed the wet path her tears had made, fingers cupping the sharp angle of her jawline. 

“Tessa…” he spoke her name so softly that she nearly strained to hear him. “Come here.”

She nearly protested; there was no way for them to be closer, she was already pressed against him, but his hands dropped from her face and his fingers tangled in hers. 

“Scott, what…” 

“I’m taking you back to your room,” he informed her, pulling her along as he made his way through the dining room and toward her bedroom. “You’re going to spend the day in bed watching Netflix and I’m going to order you some take-out for lunch in a little bit. You need something in your stomach.” 

She thought about protesting, but the thought of burying herself beneath her blankets and shutting out the rest of the world suddenly seemed like the best course of action. It was the easiest way to sink into mindless comfort, watching a show she’d seen a hundred times before and pretending that she hadn’t suffered the devastating loss of her dream. 

True to his word, Scott helped Tessa into her bed, pulling the white duvet around her and tucking it around her like a child. His fingers lingered over the blanket and he perched on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark and focused solely on her. 

“What can I do to help you feel better before I go?” He asked, and she looked up at him before blinking. She felt young and timid, just as she had when she’d been seven and he’d been nine and she’d felt like being with him was the greatest gift in the world. Like being allowed to linger in his presence was a reward, not an absolute necessity for their craft. 

“What?” She lifted her head a little, sniffling. She knew she must look a mess; she’d barely managed to pull her hair into a bun this morning and hadn’t even bothered to swipe any color over her lips. Her face felt swollen and warm and she caught the surprise in his eyes even before she finished speaking, “Where are you going?” 

“Uh…” he sat back a little, glancing at the door before looking to her. “I just figured you wanted to be alone for a little while.” 

“No!” She cried the word out, struggling a little beneath the tightly wrapped blanket, “I mean, no… no, I don’t really want to be alone. Would you stay with me?”

There was only a brief silence between them, but Tessa was suddenly terrified that he’d deny her, tell her that he’d completed this part of his agreement and that he was sorry but that he had a life to get back to. 

But, then, of course, he smiled. 

“Yeah, T. If that’s what you want,” he nodded. He sat for a moment and then shifted, pushing himself back onto the bed and beside her. Tessa was on her side away facing away from him but felt him settle back against the headboard. She imagined his legs stretched out, his arms folded behind his head. She closed her eyes, tried to think about anything but the sinking emptiness within her. 

This was only their first try, she reasoned. Scott was right; the doctor said it could take several tries before the implantation was a success. She had known that before they had undergone the procedure that the success rates were oftentimes low and that it could take three to four tries before results. Somehow, though, she’d expected to beat those odds, had expected that, with Scott, she’d be one of the lucky ones. 

“Scott,” she said his name softly, so quietly that she wasn’t sure if he could hear her, but she couldn’t turn to face him. She already felt the tears burning her eyes again, already felt the crushing sense of failure that she’d been unsuccessful in doing something she’d truly believed she’d been capable of. “Could you hold me?” 

She didn’t know if he heard her, and decided that if he hadn’t, she wouldn’t ask again. It made her feel too vulnerable to repeat the words, to put them back into the air and give him the chance to deny her. 

But then she felt the mattress shift behind her and suddenly his body was pressed flush against hers, his arm falling over her hip. He shifted until his chest was pressed against her back, until she felt his body heat through her loungewear and his hand on her side. She froze, her breath catching in her throat at the feel of him so close to her. 

It wasn’t the first time they’d spooned; after all, they’d spent twenty-one years together and had been inseparable for the better part of them. He’d held her in more ways than she’d known it was possible, had curled beside her in beds and on couches, airport floors and in the backs of vehicles. But this somehow felt different, and she realized with an ache in her chest that his hand had slipped from her hip and made its way to her stomach where he cupped her belly protectively. 

“Tess,” his breath was hot against the back of her neck and she blinked against her pillow. “You have to believe something, okay? You have to believe that this is going to happen for us… for you.” She heard the catch in his throat, the way he suddenly stumbled over the words. “I don’t know a whole lot about babies or pregnancy or… well, anything, really, but there is one thing I do know.” 

“What?” she wondered softly, allowing her eyes to flutter closed at the soothing feel of his touch over her nightshirt. 

“I know you,” he said after a moment, and she heard the sound of his dry lips, “and I know that when this happens, and it is going to happen, you’re going to be the best damn mom in the entire world. And you know what you’re going to see when you look into that little baby’s eyes?” 

She clenched her jaw but a tear was already slipping down her cheek. 

_You_ , she wanted to say. _I’m going to look at the baby and I'm going to see you._

“No,” she said instead. 

His hand began to rub slow, comforting circles over her belly, his touch so similar to the way he’d stroked her back and neck for so many years before and after competitions around the world. 

“You’re going to see that all of these tears and all of this pain has been worth it, and none of this will matter. You won’t remember that negative pregnancy test, Tess. All you’ll remember is the way it feels when they put your baby on your chest for the first time.” 

She stifled a quiet sob, turning her face into the pillow. His hand continued its movement, tracing its tender path over her shirt. 

“So here’s what I want you to do, okay?” His voice was impossibly soft, and she suddenly wondered how she would ever be able to go back to seeing him only over dinners and special occasions. She knew it was the emotion of the moment, but she suddenly couldn’t imagine him not holding her hand through her appointments, not being there when she heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time or crying along with her as its initial wail pierced the air of the delivery room. 

“I want you to relax, and just like when we were training for the Olympics, I want you to visualize it. I want you to see your baby’s face, the color of her hair, the shape of her eyes. I want you to imagine holding her in your arms and kissing her tiny face. And I want you to know that you are so much stronger than you believe you are when it comes to this.” His hand paused in its movements, his thumb stroking her hip. “You need to believe in yourself, Tess. Do you think we ever would have gotten to the top of that podium if you hadn’t believed in yourself with every single cell of your being?” 

Tessa rested quietly for a moment, then gently shook her head. 

“No, but it wasn’t just me. It was us. I believed in us.” 

She heard him breath softly, felt the way the air tickled the back of her neck gently. 

“And I’m still here,” he said quietly, “it’s still us.”

She shifted beneath the blanket, her arms slipping out of the confine of the duvet and finding Scott’s hand. Her fingers intertwined with his and he brought both of their hands to her flat belly, melding her hand around the tight muscles there. 

“Then tell me you believe in us,” his voice came again.

Her mouth opened slightly, her two front teeth tugging gently at the lower lip. 

“I do,” she said, and then nodded, “I believe in us.”

“Good,” she felt him smile, and then he spoke again, a dry humor encasing his words. “Now you just have to believe in yourself when I’m not here to rub your swollen ankles for you.”

Tessa smiled, but there was no humor in it. 

“I’ll get there eventually,” she promised, but it was the first time since all of this had begun that she knew she had purposefully lied to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled that you guys are enjoying this story!


	8. Chapter 8

“Okay, I want you to go directly to bed,” Scott was saying as he pushed into Tessa’s house behind her. “Change into your pajamas and get comfortable. I’ll bring you dinner once it’s ready.” 

He was cradling a box of ingredients from Hello Fresh; he’d insisted on ordering a meal for them specifically for this occasion, had even let her choose (she’d requested the Soy-Maple Glazed Salmon) and he’d reacted with unprecedented glee when he’d seen the green box sitting on the step of her front door when they’d returned from the fertility clinic. He moved to the kitchen quickly, placing the box on the island counter before turning to look at her as she stood in the doorway. 

“I don’t want to go to bed,” she furrowed her eyebrows a little, her pink lips scrunching into a pout. “Can’t I just lay on the couch?” 

She heard the playful whine in her tone and wondered for a moment if she was giving him too much. It was cute, the idea of him being so protective and ordering her to do things like eat her fruit, take her vitamins, lay in bed, but it was also slightly troubling. She wondered if she was making him believe he was more instrumental in this than he actually was, playfully ordering her around and watching as she dragged herself off to bed like a devoted little partner. The thought alarmed her, and rather than waiting for his response, she slipped off her shoes, settled on the couch, and pulled her feet up beneath her. 

He looked at her, seemingly displeased for a moment, before shrugging almost imperceptibly and turning away from her to begin unloading the box of ingredients. She watched his back as he began to whistle, and the high-pitched tune somehow made her feel uneasy. It felt too comfortable, she realized, him being here. It felt normal, watching him unpack their dinner and noticing that his shoes had been neatly tucked beside the front door. He was in his socks in her kitchen, pulling out pans and utensils seamlessly, and it was with a rising panic in her throat that she realized it had been weeks since they hadn’t seen each other or exchanged at least one phone call per day. 

The thought frightened her and a sick tension tightened her stomach. She couldn’t let herself get so attached to him, not when she knew he’d be flying off to Detroit or Montreal and she’d have her own plans, her own responsibilities. Maybe the baby to worry about. 

She almost opened her mouth to call his name, tell him that maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do dinner tonight; maybe he was right, she should spend the rest of the evening in bed and she’d call him if she needed anything. But as she began to speak, her eyes fell upon a business envelope that had been placed on her coffee table. She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward to grab the envelope and immediately recognizing her mother’s precise handwriting on the front. 

“Oh!” She cried suddenly, causing Scott to turn so quickly that he nearly slipped on the dark wooden floor. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice was full of concern and she glanced up at him as her fingers worked at the clasp of the envelope. 

“No, nothing,” she shook her head, “my mom told me she was going to drop off some of our baby pictures.”

She pulled out a stack of photographs and began to thumb through them slowly, his voice returning after a moment. 

“ _Our_ baby pictures?” 

“Yeah,” she grinned up at him, “your mom sent some, too.” She repositioned herself on the couch, the photographs in her lap as she patted the spot on the couch next to her. “You wanna look with me?” 

He seemed to hesitate for only a moment, and she wondered if he was debating whether to give his attention to her or the food on the counter. He moved quickly to the sink, then, washing his hands and drying them on a white dishcloth before moving into the living room and sinking onto the sofa beside her. 

“Okay, let’s see.” 

She directed the first picture at him; it was a picture of Jordan and her, Tessa no more than one or two-years-old. Her hair was blown back in the wind, her small, white teeth exposed in a grin. Tessa giggled, her green eyes tracing over her tiny face. 

“Oh, that’s cute,” Scott’s voice came from beside her, soft and affectionate. “Look how little you were, T.”

“Yeah,” Tessa breathed, a smile crossing her lips as she glanced up at him before flipping the photograph over. “1991. I was barely two.”

He smiled at the photograph before she passed it behind the others, shuffling through them slowly. Between the pictures of her with her family, smiling, pouting, crying, a few photos of Scott were tucked. He guffawed, picking one out with his fingers and holding it up for both of them to examine.

He was a little older than Tessa in the photograph, maybe four. His hair was falling into his eyes and his brown eyes were sparkling mischievously. He was crouching, appearing to try and hide something behind his back. Tessa laughed softly, looking toward him. 

“That’s adorable,” she heard the softness in her voice and traced his tiny face with her fingertip. “I’ve never seen this picture of you!” 

“Me either,” he laughed, taking a small stack of pictures from her and spreading them on his lap. Tessa’s eyes scanned the photographs before plucking one from the pile, this one of her as a slightly older child, closer to the age of Scott in the photo he held in his fingers. She studied it for a moment before an idea flickered in her mind. It was dangerous, she realized. It would draw out emotions she wasn’t sure how to handle, she knew, but she was already taking the photo of Scott from his fingers and leaning forward to place it on the coffee table beside the photograph of herself. 

He looked up, to ask, but she was already flipping through the photographs, selecting one of each of them at similar ages and placing them side by side on the table. By the time she had finished, she’d managed to match a photo of each of them from infancy up to late childhood, the progression moving from bald and toothless to gap-toothed and sporting terrible hairstyles of the late nineties. 

She sat back and Scott made a soft noise beside her, studying the progress she’d made. 

“There,” she whispered after a moment, her eyes scanning the line of photographs. “Now we can just…” her voice faded at the realization that she couldn’t say it now that she’d made the effort. She couldn’t just say the words aloud, despite the fact that they’d just completed their second insemination effort this afternoon. Even with the knowledge that his sperm was currently inside her, she couldn’t form the words. 

“The baby,” he looked toward her, understanding her thought process, because of course he did. They’d spent two decades knowing every thought that ran through the other’s head. “We can envision what the baby will look like.” 

Of course she’d thought about it before, had been thinking about it for the past six months. She’d had enough time to memorize all of his features, every crease in his face and every follicle of his hair. She could have drawn him from memory if she’d had the time or the talent to do so, but the innate representations of their childhoods laid out before them suddenly made so much sense. 

“Yeah,” she nodded, suddenly more grateful for his presence. She sat still on the couch and he studied her for a moment before leaning forward and collecting the two photographs of infants in his hands. He presented them both to her, and even as she focused on the grinning babies, she felt his eyes on her. 

“Okay,” he said softly, his voice so impossibly kind that she felt guilty for the panic she’d felt at the sight of him in her kitchen in his dark-grey socks, whistling a tune that it had taken her until just now to recognize as one of the many tunes they’d danced to over the years. “What do you think?” 

She looked toward him, suddenly unsure of herself. This had seemed so much easier in her mind, sorting their features and combining them into a mixture that represented how she thought their child might look. If she had been alone, it would have been easy to picture his hazel eyes and the sharp line of his jaw combined with the shape of her lips, the slant of her eyes. But now, with Scott beside her, it felt impossible, almost taboo. 

“I hope she has your green eyes,” he said suddenly, drawing her attention. Her lips parted as she took in a sharp breath. 

“She?” She couldn’t help but to smile despite her reservations. “That’s the second time you’ve said she. What makes you so sure the baby is…” she caught herself, “will be a girl?”

He stared at the picture for a moment longer before shrugging slightly, turning to grin at her. 

“It’s just a gut feeling I have.” He wiggled the picture of her as a baby before her teasingly. “A little girl who looks just like you.”

“No,” she whispered the word before realizing that she meant it. “The baby will look like you, too. After all, you’re her…” the words faded on her lips, a flush rushing over her. Her what? She tried to think of the right word. Donor? She realized with a startling clarity that the word she’d been prepared to use had been father, and her breath stuck in her throat. Technically, of course, it was true, but she couldn’t think of it like that. She couldn’t see him like that, not if she wanted to get through this with any of her sanity intact. “She’s going to have some of your features, as well, Scott.”

She watched as his tongue darted out, a smile pressing over his parched lips. 

“Yeah, well,” he cleared his throat before forcing a small laugh, “let’s just hope she doesn’t have my nose, eh?” 

Tessa looked toward him then, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

“Why? What’s wrong with your nose?” 

His lips parted in surprise and he laughed again, reaching up to touch his nose self-consciously. 

“You’re kidding, right? You know how many times I’ve nearly put out one of your eyes with this beak?” 

“Scott,” she shook her head, raising her hand nearly unconsciously to place her fingertips gingerly on the tip of his nose. “Your nose is fine. I’ve never disliked it.” 

At the feel of her fingers on the tip of his nose, he allowed his own hand to fall slowly to his lap. She met his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the affection within them. He blinked then, and it nearly broke the trance she’d seemingly fallen into, but his lips curled into the softest smile and her hands moved just slightly, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. 

“I just want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted,” he confessed, his voice impossibly quiet, her eyes watching his lips as he spoke. Her touch was feather-light on his cheek. “I want everything to go perfectly for you.” 

“Scott,” she said his name again, the word leaving her lips in a whisper. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to tell him, but all of her words would fall short in this moment. There was nothing she could say right now to convey the way she felt for him, the way she loved him more desperately than she had loved anyone in her life. The fact that he had done so much to bring her to this point left her speechless. 

And with this knowledge, she pressed her lips to kiss, catching his mouth in a kiss. It was soft at first, so tender and light that her lips ghosted over his in a way that it was possible to convey the action as nothing more than a friendly gesture, but that changed quickly. 

Her hand still on his face, she felt him react to the kiss, felt his lips part and allow her access to his warm mouth. She could have resisted or pulled away, but she accepted his invitation and slid her tongue into his waiting mouth, her two front teeth masterfully tugging at his lower lip. Their lips had met before, of course, so many times on the ice to sell the romance their stories required, but it had never been like this. She had never felt dizzy and hot with the taste of him, and the sudden realization made her pull away. 

She sucked in her breath, her fingers flying to her lips to cover them in a parted gasp. Scott’s eyes fluttered open, surprised at her retreat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look of surprise on her face. 

“I don’t know…” she panicked, began to stammer, “I’m sorry, I don’t… I didn’t… Scott, I…”

“Tess,” he breathed her name, and it sounded so delicious on his lips that she wanted to kiss him again. She stood, panting, turning away from him. Her hands smoothed her shirt, and ridiculously, she thought of the salmon that had been left to sit on the island counter, rushing out of the room and moving the plate of meat to the refrigerator.

“Tessa?” She heard him move to the kitchen, felt his eyes on her as she tidied the mess he’d left when he’d hurried to join her on the couch.

“You know,” she turned to him, meeting his eyes with a guilt that she couldn’t express. “I’m not really that hungry. I think you’re right. I think I’ll just head to bed, okay? You want to take the food with you?” 

His eyebrows furrowed, his mouth forming a thin line. 

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m tired,” she lied, knowing that he would see right through the excuse. She hated the uncertainty of the moment, but moved toward him, hesitating for only a moment before placing her hands on his chest gingerly. “I need to rest, okay?” 

He could see she was lying; that much was certain, but she saw the acceptance flicker in his eyes before she felt his chest rise with a sigh of defeat. 

“Okay.” He turned away from her, moving to slip into his shoes, “But you’ll call me if you need anything, right?” 

“Yes,” she said in response, but she didn’t know if it was true. She couldn’t bring herself to rely on him more than she already had, and the guilt that had already begun to eat at her made her feel sick and dizzy. “I’ll call you.” 

Scott slipped into his sneakers and glanced toward her He moved toward the door, then paused. 

“I have a coaching thing starting Monday,” he said dully, and she felt the resentment bubble in her stomach. Instinctively, she wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter, but she found that it suddenly did. The thought of him in another province, another country for that matter, suddenly made her feel anxious. “It’s going to last at least a couple of weeks.”

“Monday?” Tessa asked, reaching for her phone before she realized it was lying on the coffee table next to the photographs of them as children. “That’s still a while away. We’ll see each other before then.”

Scott watched her for a moment. 

“It’s already Friday, Tess. I was going to tell you about it later, but…” his voice faded. “Will you be okay?” 

Tessa laughed, throwing her head back in a grand gesture that left her feeling like shit once she met Scott’s hurt eyes again. 

“Yeah,” she said a moment later, her voice much softer. “I’ll be fine.” 

His hand paused on the knob of the front door before he moved to turn it. 

“You’ll call me, right? I mean if you… when you find something out?” 

He sounded terrified suddenly, and she met his eyes briefly before her gaze moved to his mouth. His lips were pink and so soft and all she could think of was capturing them again, pushing him against the couch and kissing him until both of their mouths were sore. 

“I’ll call you,” she nodded, softening despite the wall she’d already begun to build within herself. “Scott…”

He turned to look at her and she rushed into his arms, her own arms going around his neck and squeezing him tightly as she felt his hand brush her back. She held herself close to him, her chest against his, their hearts beating in a synchronization that they’d perfected years ago. 

“Thank you again,” she whispered the words before pulling away. “I’ll call you. I promise.” 

*

She didn’t call him as she promised she would. She had intended to, she really had, but hours had turned into days and days had turned into one week and then a week and-a-half and it felt silly to call. She expected him to be back in town by the two-week mark, knew there was nothing she could say or do to make the time go faster by listening to his voice over the phone. 

And she convinced herself it was nice to have a break from him. He wasn’t watching everything she ate, and the texts to ensure she’d taken her prenatal vitamins had stopped after three days. In fact, by the eleventh day of his absence, he’d stopped texting her altogether. 

She wanted to believe it was because he was busy with coaching, had found something besides her and the idea of her pregnancy to occupy his time, but the truth was that he’d tried. He’d texted and called and she’d responded with little to no interest, often promising to text him after the meetings and photoshoots and falling into bed exhausted that night without remembering to even check her phone. 

The thought came to her on the eleventh day after the procedure, when she’d been searching the medicine cabinet to look for a particular face cream and had come upon an unopened pregnancy test. She looked at it for a long moment, closed the medicine cabinet and then reopened it to grab the box. Her hand trembled as she opened the box, anguish suddenly overtaking her at the feel of the test in her hand. 

She shouldn’t do this alone, she knew; Scott had a right to be here. 

Or did he? 

He was her sperm donor, yes, and he had done everything she’d asked of him and more. He’d held her hand at both of their appointments, had brought her food and held her when she’d cried about the first negative test. 

But he had come into this knowing that nothing more was expected of him than his sperm, and she had tried to make that abundantly clear. And, aside from that indiscretion on her couch, when she’d stupidly kissed him, she felt that she’d done a decent job of defining the border that separated the roles of sperm donor and father.

She suppressed the guilt that tried to push up her chest, the nausea that overwhelmed her at the thought of his lips and the fact that she had spent the past ten days thinking of the way his mouth had felt. The guilt made her fingers hesitate, but she tore the package open despite herself and walked briskly to the kitchen to retrieve a disposable cup.   
She tried to steady her trembling hands as she held the cup beneath the stream of her urine, placing the cup on the sink and the test inside before settling against the door frame of the washroom, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes focused unblinkingly on the test as it processed her results. 

It had only been eleven days, she reasoned. The doctor had suggested waiting fourteen days to get a positive result, but she’d already made up her mind. When this rest revealed a negative result, she’d dispose of it and not mention it to Scott. She’d wait three days until he returned and take the test again. He could wait outside the bathroom door if he wanted. 

After two minutes, she moved toward the cup and lifted the test. 

It took her several moments to focus her eyes on the blurry word, and she blinked, not believing her own vision. _Pregnant._

It was a strange mixture of joy and apprehension that overwhelmed her suddenly, and she clutched the test in her trembling fingers, a swell of laughter and tears bursting from her as she read the word in the tiny plastic window over and over again. _Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant._

She recognized the sound as the one Scott had mentioned in numerous interviews, the laugh-cry he’d only heard twice in their lives, and she was suddenly sad that he hadn’t been here to hear it again. 

She bolted out of the washroom and down the hall into the living room, grabbing for her phone. She needed to tell someone: Scott. Of course, she needed to tell Scott.   
It wasn’t until after she’d scrolled through her favorites and located his number on her phone screen that the realization hit her. Her thumb hovered over his name, the tiny circle that held his smiling picture. 

She couldn’t call him. She couldn’t tell him like this, not over the phone, not over text, and certainly not when he was seven-hundred kilometers away in Montreal. She wanted him to be here, wanted to see the surprise and joy on his face. Her eyes caught the screen of her phone again and she studied his smiling hazel eyes, the lines on his face, the dark hair curling at the base of his neck. 

She locked her phone and placed it face down. 

She was still trembling, quiet peals of laughter slipping from her as she sank onto the couch, her hands instinctively curling around her belly, her fingers tugging at her shirt foolishly to peek beneath. There was no sign of the pregnancy yet, of course; her abs were still well defined and her slender frame hadn’t yet begun to change. 

Still, knowing that there was a fetus inside her, that the procedure had been a success, that she was growing a child within her womb, she felt different. She was flushed and full of a strange pride she hadn’t felt even at the top of the Olympic podium.

She laughed and screamed in joy in her empty home, surrounded by the pristine white furniture and fixtures that she had taken such meticulous pride in selecting. Fine dishes, home décor, fancy clothes. Her voice echoed off the walls, down the hallway and up the stairs and into the places that held the most precious things in her life; awards and gold medals, the Barbie created in her honor, depicting the proudest moment of her life. She fell onto the couch and hugged herself, hot tears of joy stinging her eyes. 

She was surrounded by so many exquisite things, so many wonderful memories. She was filled with a new sense of hope for the future, plans and goals that she’d only dreamed of for so long. 

The only thing missing was someone to share them with.


	9. Chapter 9

Scott hadn’t been surprised when his calls to Tessa had gone to voicemail, had been even less shocked when she’d stopped responding to his texts consistently. He’d struggled with himself for the first few days of his assignment, trying to keep his attention focused on his clients rather than the perfectly capable woman seven-hundred kilometers away. Often, he had tried to convince himself not to text or call, assuring himself that Tessa was at home in the company of her family and friends and if she were to need anything, she would surely contact her mother before she’d reach out to him. It had taken a few days to get into the rhythm of putting the phone down when she crossed his mind, and eventually he’d forced himself to focus on anything other than the thought of her. 

It was enough for him that she’d finally responded to him on the eleventh day, sending him a series of emojis and apologizing for being too busy to get back with him earlier in the week. He’d frowned but let Tessa feign ignorance, happy to know that despite her silence earlier in the week, she was safe.

 _Dinner at my place, 6:30?_ She’d sent the text message early on the morning of his departure from Montreal, as he was still perched on the edge of the bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. _I owe you one Hello Fresh meal._

Before his vision even cleared, he was typing his response, affirming his presence that evening. It wasn’t a question, there was nothing to consider. As badly as he sometimes wished he could break free from the grasp that she’d held over him for the past two-and-a-half decades, he knew it was next to impossible. She’d always had his heart, even when she hadn’t realized it. 

It had been thirteen days since the procedure, he realized, as he slipped into the shower and let the hot water pelt his skin. She was likely planning to take the pregnancy test again tonight, and he tried to prepare himself for the disappointment. He'd really been convinced they’d gotten it right the first time, had fooled himself into believing that they would defy the odds, that Tessa’s hyper-vigilance would lead to an abnormally simple process. It had taken him the better part of the month since the last negative result to stop thinking about the way her face had fallen, the way her shoulders had slumped, the way she’d cried into his arms. He would be there for her again, there was no question, but he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to deal with her pain twice. 

The day passed slowly, his eyes absentmindedly glancing at the clock on the wall of the ice rink throughout lessons and conversations with students. More than once, he saw the way the students’ eyes fell when he glanced away from them and felt a pang of guilt, resolved to make his distraction less noticeable, but couldn’t express the relief he felt when the students trickled out of the building around one o’clock. He had less than six hours until dinner with Tessa. 

Even with a connecting flight, he managed to arrive at her house by 6:15 and sat outside in his car for another ten minutes, the heater blowing warm air into the vehicle. He couldn’t calm the nerves in his stomach and wondered how she might respond to his presence. They hadn’t seen each other since she’d kissed him, and- Jesus, had she really kissed him? It seemed like such a distant memory now, but he’d spent the past thirteen days replaying the moment in his brain, thinking about the feel of her lips against his, the way her mouth had lingered and reacted even when he’d parted his lips. 

He’d kissed her before; it was a game they had sometimes played on the ice during intense competitions or trainings, catching her lips in an attempt to further sell the love story they told. But those kisses had been different, he reasoned; they’d all been close-lipped, for one. And they’d been for the benefit of others, to ensure that their routines were discussed and remembered long after they’d vacated the ice. 

But there had been no judges, no audience in her living room. There had only been the two of them, only the moment of being so absorbed in the discussion of the child that she’d been overtaken by… what, exactly? Desire? Lust? Pity?

He shut the car off and made his way to the front door, rapping at it lightly. He stepped back, prepared to wait for her, but Tessa opened the door immediately, her dark painted lips splitting into a bright grin at the sight of him. 

“Scott,” she said his name softly, and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. She rushed into his embrace, slipping her arms around his neck and pulling him close. He didn’t have a chance to speak before she was pressed against him, her dark hair smelling of strawberries. “I’m so glad you’re home.” 

_Home_. He noted the use of her word. He did have a home here in London, but he was gone more than he was in town, at least he had been, up to this point. Since the medical appointments had started with Tessa, he’d done his best to work around her and had tried to avoid leaving town at all, at least until recently. Now, it seemed like the most important thing in the world to be here.

“Me too,” he held her for a moment longer before she slid from his arms and he stepped into the house, taking a deep breath. He could smell garlic, maybe rosemary, and there were two chicken breasts cooling on a tray on the kitchen island. “Wow, Tess, it smells amazing in here.” 

She grinned again, the slightest dimple pressing into her cheek, her green eyes meeting his. 

“Thank you. Come on, sit down. Dinner’s almost ready.” She grasped his hand unexpectedly, her lithe fingers linking with his as she led him into the dining room. Her fine white table held two place settings across from one another, and a small white gift bag sat in an empty seat. She made her way to the table, pausing at the chair, her fingers clutching the back of the chair.

“I have something for you,” she said, her voice soft, eyes darting to the small white bag, lavender tissue paper poking out from within. “A little gift. But don’t look yet, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Tess, let me help,” he offered, but she placed a gentle hand on his chest, keeping him in place. 

“No. I want you to sit down. All I need to do is get the food onto some dishes and then I’ll be back.” When he began to protest, her eyes flashed. “Please, Scott.”

He sighed. 

“Fine. Okay. I’m sitting.” He pulled out a chair and sank into it. She smiled before disappearing into the kitchen. 

His eyes moved toward the small white gift bag, unassuming and completely nondescript. There was no way to tell what was in the bag, and he wondered why Tessa had felt the need to get him anything. They didn’t even trade birthday gifts anymore, hadn’t done that in at least a decade. Their gifts to one another were decidedly more intimate; she still talked about that damn bucket of rice he’d left at her doorstep. 

She appeared a moment later, a plate in either hand, roasted green beans and jasmine rice flanked on either side of the entrée. She placed a plate before him and then slid into her own seat across from him, her bright eyes meeting his. He eyed the glass of Chardonnay before him and then Tessa’s ice water. 

“This looks really good,” he smiled up at her, picking up his fork and knife and slicing into the white meat. “You did a good job, T.” 

She smiled at him, watching as he took the first bite, chewed, and then swallowed. 

“You like it? I’ve been practicing.” 

“I like it,” he nodded, taking another bite and watching as Tessa began to eat as well. “So, is this what you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone? Becoming a master chef?” 

She laughed softly, the sound like bells, and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. She looked different, he realized… softer, maybe, more approachable. The thought caught in his throat, his eyes attempting to glance at her belly, foolishly looking for the swell of her abdomen. 

“Not exactly,” she said after a moment, “I’ve had a couple of work assignments. I’ve been doing a series of photo shoots and I had an interview. I’ve been keeping myself busy.” 

There was something else, he knew. He could see her hesitation; could see the way she chose her words carefully. He knew her better than any other person on earth, maybe himself included. He knew when there was something she wanted to say, and there was something now. 

“What?” He finally asked, daring a smile. She caught her breath, tried to protest, but he saw the acknowledgement flash in her eyes and pressed her lips together. She watched him for a moment and then set her fork aside, straightening in her chair. “What is it?” 

She hesitated for only a moment before she rose from the table, crossing to the chair beside him and picking up the gift bag. She offered it to him, a tiny smile pressing across her lips.

“It’s silly,” she grinned, her cheeks flushed pink, “and I obviously could never really thank you enough for everything you’ve done, but… thank you.”

Scott smiled at her breathlessly as she passed the bag into his hands, her touch lingering on his for an extra moment before she pulled away. 

“Open it.” 

He smiled at her before gently reaching into the bag and pulling out the lavender tissue paper, setting it aside on the table and peering into the bag. There was a mug nestled within and he reached in, lifting it out of the bag. He turned it in his hand, smiling at the possibilities of her gift, his eyes scanning the words as he saw them. It was a simple white mug, thick and sturdy, the four words scrawled in what was meant to be the handwriting of a child, though the font was embossed slightly, a hint as to the quality of its craftsmanship. 

_World’s Best Sperm Donor._

His initial response was laughter, though it swelled somewhere deep in his chest and came out as a choking sound, but Tessa seemed pleased by it. She was watching with wide eyes and a huge smile, laughing alongside him as he read the words over and over. It was a cruel joke the universe had played on him, the sentimental adage of World’s Best Dad replaced by the generic term. He knew she meant it to be funny, though, and he forced another laugh despite the sudden pain in his chest. 

“World’s best sperm donor,” he said the words despite himself, and she laughed again, as if it were the funniest thing she’d ever heard. He met her eyes and couldn’t deny the pleasure in them. “That’s cute, T. That’s really funny. Thank you.” 

There was something about the way she was watching him, the expectancy in her eyes, and then she shrugged, smiling as if she were hiding the most precious secret in the world.

“I took the test,” she said then, her voice suddenly impossibly soft. “I took the test two days ago, Scott. I’m pregnant. It worked.”

His breath left him in a gasp, a warmth encapsulating him and racing down the length of his body.

“You… really?”

She nodded, her green eyes wet. 

“Really.” 

His jaw fell slack. She laughed, then covered her mouth and he pushed out of his chair so quickly that it fell backward. He rushed her, taking her in his arms and pulling her into a tight embrace. It brought to mind that moment right after they’d performed Moulin Rouge in PyeongChang, when he’d been so overwhelmed with passion and love for her that he’d snatched her right off the ice. And just as he had then, his mind now immediately went to its standard thought: _don’t hurt her. Especially now, when she’s pregnant_.

Still, it took a moment for his arms to release her, his hands gripping protectively at her biceps as he pulled away and looked at her, tears streaking her porcelain cheeks and her brunette hair flying away from her face in its bun. 

“Tessa,” he said her name in shock, in an uncalculated joy even he hadn’t anticipated in this moment. “Tess, oh my God.” And he was hugging her again, holding her to his chest, inhaling the smell of her shampoo and her natural scent and she was trembling in his arms, but when he looked again, he saw that she was crying, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks. His own eyes burned with unshed tears and he wiped at them with the back of his hand.

His thumbs were busy then, wiping away her tears and kissing her cheeks, thinking only of the joy on her face, the blissful happiness that currently overwhelmed her. 

“I’m so happy for you, babe,” he whispered to her, his mind reeling with the idea of what this meant. Tessa was now, without doubt, going to be a mother. He was going to have a child with her, with the girl he’d been in love with since he was nine-years-old, and they’d done this together. There would be a human in existence that was created through a combination of their DNA, and that human was currently an embryo in Tessa’s womb.

“Jesus,” he breathed out, clutching her to him more gently now, his hand stroking her hair, “You’re really pregnant?” 

“I am,” she pulled away from him slightly, just enough to gaze up at him, “I’m pregnant, Scott. Thank you. Thank you so much.” 

His heart pounded in his chest as he hugged her close again, her arms encircling her completely, clutching her to him eagerly. God, even the feel of her in his arms; she felt somehow more delicate, more precious, knowing that she was pregnant with their-

But, _no_. His mind flashed back to the mug, those four words emboldened in his brain. _World’s Best Sperm Donor_. Not World’s Best Dad. Although biologically, yes, the child would be just as much a part of him as of Tessa, he wouldn’t be a father, a dad, daddy. He would be only the sperm donor, and foolishly he’d allowed himself to believe that, especially after the kiss they’d shared, Tessa had allowed herself to begin to see him as more than that. But the mug had cemented what he’d already known; he was merely a biological contributor to the life growing within her, and she saw him as nothing more. 

Slowly, his arms released her, and she stepped away from him. Nearly unconsciously, his eyes slipped down her body, lingering for a moment on her slender waist. She caught him staring and laughed, running her fingertips over her slim abdomen. 

“I just…” he sputtered for a moment, shaking his head, “how are you feeling?” 

“I feel incredible,” she met his eyes, and he knew, without a doubt, she was speaking the truth. She appeared radiant, her skin was glowing, her eyes were sparkling. Her dark hair looked strong and healthy, her nails clean and pink. She looked beautiful. More beautiful than he’d maybe ever seen her before, even with little-to-no makeup and her hair pulled into a casual bun. “I guess it sounds kind of weird,” she acknowledged after a moment, “but I feel beautiful.”

His lips parted. 

“You are beautiful,” he managed to say after a moment, “you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

He saw the blush highlight her cheekbones, and she dipped her head for a moment before meeting his gaze again. She crossed the room, settling back into her seat, and he bent to right his chair before sitting as well. His body felt heavy and light at the same time, a strange mix of emotion and despair welling within his chest. 

“You have no idea how much I appreciate you,” she said after she’d taken a sip of her water, reaching her hand across the table for his. Her fingers rested on the back of his hand and he watched her, feeling a smile press across his lips. “No idea what it means to me that you’ve done this for me. I’m gonna be a mom, Scott. Because of you.” 

The emotion broke her voice, and she looked down at the table. He could see the shine of her eyes, the unspilled tears. The sincerity in her face made him furrow his brows, his eyes catching glimpse of the mug that sat on the table beside him, its letters bright and shiny with hope and joy. 

_World’s Best Sperm Donor._

“You’re going to be an amazing mom,” he found the strength to say, turning his palm up and curling his fingers within hers. “I’m just lucky I get to watch you do it.”   
And watch, he would. Watch as her belly grew swollen with new life, watch as the baby arrived and she cradled it in her arms, watch as it learned to crawl and walk and speak and live a life that didn’t include calling him “Daddy”. Watch as she raised the child into an amazing, self-sufficient human being that brought more beauty and love into the world than he could ever hope.

It was these thoughts that got him through the rest of the evening, watching Tessa’s beautiful, animated face as she discussed taking the test, as she laughed over the way she’d felt guilty doing it without him there, and he’d pretended to laugh along, shaking his head as if the idea itself were ridiculous. 

But he _was_ hurt, he realized. He had wanted to be there when she’d gotten that positive result; after all, he’d been there for the negative one. He’d held her as she cried and he’d cried later, too, when he’d been alone. He’d spend the better part of a month hurting for her, his heart breaking each time he thought of the despair and hopelessness in her beautiful features. He’d wanted so badly to be there for the joy, the excitement, the contagious ecstasy that Tessa exuded when she was happy.   
But Scott was a good actor, much better than Tessa could ever hope to be, and he laughed and expressed his joy throughout the evening. He congratulated her again and again, voicing his excitement and listening as she made generic plans for the future: plans that didn’t include him. 

It was nearly eleven o’clock by the time he’d dragged himself to the front door, not wanting to leave her but knowing that he needed some time to process this evening. He promised to call her, and, unlike her, intended to keep his word. She hugged him one last time, kissing his cheek and watching him with wide green eyes as he crossed the street and got into his car. 

When he’d shut his car door, he glanced toward her house, watching the orange light dance in the windows. He thought of what she might be doing; maybe heading to bed or sinking into her tub for a bubble bath. Maybe she was staring at that stick again, as she told him she’d been doing since that day, still in disbelief that there was a life growing inside of her. 

He thought of her slipping into her pristine white sheets alone, a smile spread across her pretty pink lips as she thought of her future, all of the hopes and dreams she’d planned for. 

He turned on the heat and looked into the car seat beside him, the mug looking back at him with its colorful writing. He turned the words away from him and then placed his hands on the cool steering wheel, his fingers curling against the leather. 

He wanted Tessa to be happy, he wanted her to have everything she’d ever wanted, and the fact that she’d asked him to be the one to donate his sperm had both surprised and flattered him. That kiss they’d shared two weeks ago had been, he’d realized, something he’d wanted for years. He’d thought that maybe it had been a turning point in their relationship, the moment she realized she wanted him to be more than a friend, more than a potential sperm donor. He’d spent the past two weeks convincing himself of the fact that it meant more, and when he’d seen her tonight, his heart had reacted in a way he hadn’t expected. 

He’d spent the past two weeks falling deeper in love with her, and she’d rush-ordered a gift to make sure he understood exactly where he stood with her. 

He’d been so proud of the fact that he’d managed to hold it together in front of Tessa, smiling and stroking her hair as she’d cried, laughing at the mug and looking into her green eyes as she expressed her appreciation for the gift he’d given her.

Nothing in his life or their relationship would ever be the same after this. He’d been so eager to please her that maybe he hadn’t thought of the consequences, the way she would inevitably begin to drift away from him, her belly swollen with their baby; the baby he suddenly realized he wanted to know. He wanted to be there with her, watching the baby’s first unsteady steps, listening to the babbling that came from her crib early in the morning. He wanted to be more than Scott, more than a best friend, definitely more than the _World’s Best Sperm Donor_.

He wanted to be Daddy, and the sudden realization that this might never happen unleashed the tears he’d managed to hold in all evening.


	10. Chapter 10

Tessa wasn’t an idiot, though sometimes she felt like one. 

She’d spent the entire day prior to presenting Scott with the mug sure that he’d find the humor in it, smiling each time she saw the juvenile handwriting on the cup. She’d had it specially made, had picked it up from a boutique in downtown London, even clapped with glee when her friend, the shop owner, had presented it to her. She’d had it placed in a linen bag, lavender tissue paper accenting the crisp white package. 

And she’d watched his face as he’d read the words on the cup, had seen the brief flash of hurt in his face, and though he’d done an amazing job at hiding the pain in his eyes and the tremor in his voice, she’d felt the guilt deep in her chest. She’d fucked up, she realized too late; and part of it was because of the way she’d kissed him the week prior, the way she’d let her lips part when he slipped his tongue in. She’d felt the racing of her heart, the desire that mounted with the feel of his lips upon hers, and then she’d ordered him a mug with a tagline that, maybe not-so-subconsciously, she’d known would cut him deeper than anything she could say. It had been the only way to put things back into their correct place. 

Tessa didn’t care for self-pity, for those who spent their lives regretting the choices they’d made, wishing they’d done something different, but it was the situation in which she now found herself. She wished she could take the mug back, forget about the painful laugh he’d forced at the sight of it, the way his eyes had inadvertently darted to glance at it throughout the evening.

When he hadn’t contacted her the next day, she knew she’d hurt him. She waited for a text or a phone call, and stupidly couldn’t work up the courage to send one herself. She was ashamed, full of regret, and suddenly shy at the idea that she was pregnant with what was technically his child. And when he sent her a text message two days later, she’d responded to it quickly, taking him up on his offer to bring over take-out and spend the evening catching up. 

He arrived at seven o’clock, just as they’d agreed, sporting bags from the restaurant, and they’d spread the food over the kitchen island, settling at the stools there as she pulled dishes from the cabinet. 

She could feel his eyes on her back as she moved, suddenly self-conscious at the idea of him watching her, and when she turned, she caught his gaze.

“What?” She asked, a small laugh rippling in her throat at the bemused look on his face. She must have startled him from his reverie, she realized, for he shook his head quickly and smiled at her, the corners of his lips turning up. 

“Nothing,” he said softly, and then moved toward her, taking the dishes from her hands and placing them on the kitchen island before beginning to dish food from the paper cartons. She watched him for a moment before glancing at the food, her mouth beginning to salivate at the sight of the dishes. She moved quickly toward the kitchen island and settled on a stool.

“Thanks for dinner,” she found her voice, grabbing a fork and curling noodles around the utensil. “I’m starving.” 

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled at her, watching her before beginning to eat as well. There was a silence between them as they chewed, Tessa meeting his eyes with a soft smile. 

“So how have you been feeling?” He wondered, his dark eyes watching her. “Any morning sickness yet?” 

“No,” she shook her head, “I’ve been drinking a lot of water and eating little meals throughout the day. I’ve read that eating often can help stave off any sickness.” She grinned at him crookedly. “You know I’m not a morning person. The last thing I feel like doing at four AM is being stuck bent over the toilet.” 

The hint of a smile touched his lips. 

“You should be getting some rest,” he said, pausing for a moment, his fork lingering on his dish. “This is your time to take care of yourself. Sleep in once in a while.” 

“Easy for you to say,” she teased, feeling the flush in her cheeks, “you’re not working on a time limit. Another few months and I’ll be showing. I don’t think Adidas will want my big pregnant belly in their sportswear ads.” 

Shit, saying it felt so real. Acknowledging the fact that her belly would grow until it was swollen and round with her child suddenly felt foreign to her. Absurdly, she realized she’d meant to pick up cocoa butter at the store that afternoon to begin rubbing on her belly to prevent and minimize stretch marks. She made a mental note to herself to get some the next morning. 

At her words, the smile flickered to his lips begin before he was bringing more noodles to his mouth, chewing and swallowing them with a thoughtful expression in his eyes. Tessa wanted to ask him what he was thinking, wanted desperately to get into his head and find out what was running through his mind.

“Lemons,” he said after a moment. Her eyebrows went up in surprise. 

“Sorry?” 

“Lemons,” he repeated, taking another forkful of his meal. “I read that sniffing lemons can help with morning sickness.” 

She couldn’t help the grin that slid over her lips. 

“You, reading? Was that tip in Sports Illustrated?” 

She laughed, and so did he, though it was quiet, thoughtful chuckle. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I’m just… I’m looking out for you, y’know? I hate to think about you being sick here all alone.” 

“Oh,” the word left her mouth quietly, once again feeling like an asshole for the way she’d laughed at his advice. “Well, thanks, Scott.”

He looked down to his plate, Tessa watching as his fingers twirled the fork mindlessly. When he looked up at her, she was still watching him. 

“Can I talk to you about something?” 

He was serious suddenly, his eyes dark and full. He placed his fork beside his plate on the table, his sturdy fingers resting on the table. 

“Um, okay,” she followed his lead, laying down her fork. She looked back up to him, her eyebrows furrowed. “What is it?” 

He took a deep breath then, and Tessa felt her own breath catch in her throat. Scott was cautious, thoughtful, but it was rare that he allowed himself a serious moment with her. The fact that the smile had slipped from his face and he was watching her with slightly furrowed brows instantly concerned her. 

“Scott?” She said his name, drawing his attention to her. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, after a moment, and she could hear the emotion in his voice. The sight of him so vulnerable startled her; Scott was an emotional person but he usually put on a strong front for her, and part of her resented him for that. He always tried to be the bigger person around her, always disguising his emotions with a smile until she was out of sight and only then allowing himself to break down. 

She’d seen him in his car a few days ago, had peered at him with furrowed brows as she’d watched him bury his face in his hands, and she’d gotten physically ill at the sight of it. She’d rushed to the bathroom and vomited into the toilet, had been unable to stop thinking of the pain in his face even after she’d turned the lights off later that night. 

“Thinking about what?” She ventured to ask, though she was terrified of the answer. Since he’d agreed to be a part of this, to donate his sperm, she’d wrestled with the idea that it was something he would regret. There was a paralyzing fear at the forefront of her mind that he no longer wanted this. 

“About all of this,” he said after a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “About you, me, the baby… everything.” 

She wanted to stop him, wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was going to say, but swallowed the words in her throat. 

“Okay.” 

“I’m happy for you,” he said, and she could see that he was choosing each word carefully. “I’m so incredibly happy for you, T. And I’m so proud and honored that you asked me to be involved with this. You have no idea how much it means to me.” 

His eyes were sincere, his words soft, full of the love she felt each time she looked into his eyes, but there was something else. 

“But?” She asked after a moment. His lips parted as if to protest, then closed. 

“But I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” he continued slowly. “And I know how you feel. I know you plan to raise the baby by yourself, and I think that’s… well, that’s incredible, Tess, and if anyone can do it, it’s you. I just…” she heard the quick intake of his breath, the way his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I want to be involved.” 

She blinked at him, the worrying images that had been swimming in her brain fading. 

“Involved?” She smiled, “Scott, you are involved. You were at both of the procedures with me. You’ve been involved in the whole process.”

“Yeah, I know,” he responded quickly, reaching across the table for her hand. Hesitantly, she allowed him to take it. “But I mean… once the baby gets here, Tess. I’d like to be involved with the baby. Like, actively involved.” 

Her first reaction was to tell him no, that she’d done this for herself, not for them, not for him. She wanted to tug her hand away and tell him that while she appreciated everything he’d done for her, that wasn’t possible. This wasn’t about them being a happy little family, it was about her being a mother. 

But she resisted, and instead, met his eyes once more. 

“Involved how?” She managed to get the words out. 

“I don’t know,” Scott shrugged, and she knew it was a lie. He’d thought about it. He’d rehearsed these words in his head, had probably practiced them in front of a mirror if she knew him as well as she had in the past. “I guess I just want to be a part of the baby’s life. I want to be there for her first words, first steps, the first day of school. I just want to be there.” 

Tessa watched him, considering his words. Instinctively, one of her hands drifted to her belly. She cupped her flat stomach, her eyes never leaving his. Jesus, he was serious about this. He’d been thinking about this, she realized, trying to come up with the right way to frame this proposition to her. She felt the sweat on her palms and glanced toward their hands. 

“We don’t have to be together,” he said suddenly, shaking his head, “that’s not what I’m saying. I guess I’m just asking you to let me be here for you… and to be here for the baby.” 

He wanted to say more; she could see the words lingering on his lips, but she knew he was choosing his words carefully. He knew her better than anyone else in the world, even after two years of not spending every waking moment together. If he challenged her, if he in any way indicated that she wouldn’t be able to do this alone, she would make a point of doing it just to prove him wrong. 

“But when you kissed me…” he said the words, and she sucked her breath in, “I just thought…” 

“I was confused,” she spoke quickly, slipping her hand from his. “You know I’m not good with words, Scott. You know I have trouble expressing myself. I was just feeling so many different things. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.” 

She was a terrible liar. She’d managed not to kiss him for twenty-one years, had managed to look at him on the ice when his head had been buried between her legs and (mostly) think of him as nothing but her best friend and skating partner. It had taken one emotional evening on her couch to change all of that, the idea of growing their child in her belly. And suddenly, she hadn’t been able to think about anything but the feel of his lips upon hers. 

She watched his face fall, and, not for the first time recently, hated herself. Immediately, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. 

“That’s not what I meant to say,” the words left her, careful not to use such a hard tone. “I was confused, okay? But it’s just… it’s not a good time for… us.”

It was the most directly they’d discussed anything more than a partnership in the two decades of working together. She was amazed she’d found the strength to say it at all, the taste of his lips still fresh on her mind. 

“Scott,” she made a move to reach for his hand once again, suddenly feeling more confident. “You know how much you mean to me. You know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” She squeezed his hand slightly. “You do know that, don’t you?” 

He hesitated for a moment, his lips turned downward. He appeared to study her for a moment, then nodded. 

“Yeah, okay. I know, Tess.” 

She forced a smile to her lips. 

“Listen,” she said after a brief silence, “If there were anyone in my life… if I was even interested in a relationship right now…” she let her voice fade, hoping he would catch on, hoping that she wouldn’t have to actually say the words, but he was looking at her with wide, dark eyes and she knew that he was waiting for them. “I mean it just makes sense that it would be with you.” 

She took a quiet breath, suddenly afraid to meet his eyes. 

“But,” she said the word more confidently, “I’m not. And I’m sorry if I made you think I was.”

She didn’t know how much of what she was saying was true, but the hurt seemed to lessen in his eyes and it felt right. Kissing him had felt right, too, but it was true that she wasn’t interested in a relationship at the moment. Right now, the most important thing in her life was the embryo inside her, nurturing it and ensuring that a healthy pregnancy was her main focus. 

It was true, to an extent, she realized. Though she wasn’t necessarily interested in a relationship, it would have made sense to be with Scott. If things between them weren’t so convoluted, so confusing, she thought she might be able to see herself settling into bed with him at the end of the day, curled in his arms. 

But that was dangerous thinking, especially when she came back to the fact that the baby she was carrying was his child. 

“It’s just hard, Tess,” he said after a moment, and she heard the quiet sigh escape him. “And I’m going to be honest. I don’t know how I’m going to sit back and watch your belly get bigger, knowing that that’s our baby, and not being-”

He seemed to realize the use of the word as soon as he said it, his words fading away. _Ours. Our baby._ The word took her so aback that her eyes darted away from him, her hand withdrawing. She felt the rise in her chest and felt his gaze fall upon her. 

“I don’t know, Scott…” she felt so unsure suddenly, clueless as to how to appease him in this moment. “I don’t… I need time to think about that.”

He didn’t respond, and she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She hadn’t been prepared for this, hadn’t expected him to voice his opinion in this way. She’d known from the way he’d looked at her after she’d given him the mug that she’d disappointed him, hurt him in a way that she couldn’t possibly understand. And now it made sense, the fact that he so desperately wanted to be more than the role she’d assigned him. 

An unwelcome silence unfolded between them, and he slowly moved to pick up his fork. He poked at his food, the scrape of the tines against the dish suddenly the loudest noise in the room. Tessa lowered her eyes back to her food, fingers tightening around her utensil. There was a deafening silence as they chewed, Tessa’s stomach turning with the knowledge that, if she made the wrong decision, he would resent her. There was no way to keep the baby from him and keep him in her life. 

Not that she necessarily wanted to keep the baby from him. God, if anyone in the world had the confidence to be an amazing father, it was Scott. It just wasn’t what she’d expected. She’d expected him to donate his sperm, stick around for a while, and then disappear into the background of her life, maybe showing up on some holidays and birthdays.

With a sting, she remembered the way the doctor had asked directly whether Scott would be listed on the birth certificate, the way Scott had excused himself from the room and Tessa had informed the doctor that she hadn’t planned on listing Scott as the child’s biological father. He hadn’t heard her say it, but she could assume from the way he’d slipped out of the room that he’d known her answer. 

“Do you remember,” his voice came suddenly from the silence, “at the Ilderton carnival when we were kids? When we kissed behind the Ferris Wheel?” 

She glanced up at him, not knowing whether to expect a smile or a frown. His voice was light, soft, and she felt her heart race slightly at the sight of his lips curling into a soft grin. 

“This shit was so much easier then, right?” He asked, once again placing his fork on the table. “When all we had to worry about was whether or not our friends would make fun of us for holding hands.” 

Despite herself, she felt a grin tugging at the corners of her lips. 

“Yes, well,” she said after a moment, “the peer pressure must have gotten to you. If I recall correctly, you broke up with me shortly after.” 

The words were daring, even in jest, but he was smiling fully now. 

“The single biggest mistake of my life,” he quipped, and she rolled her eyes playfully at him, feeling the lightness return to her stomach. “Just think, if we’d stayed together… we’d be married by now. And that baby would have gotten into your belly without the help of any doctors.” 

She flushed, caught his eye, and he winked at her. She laughed softly before looking away. 

Scott slipped from his stool, eyeing her. 

“You finished?” 

She nodded, and he took the plate from in front of her and carried them toward the kitchen. She went to stand, moving to follow him, and he turned toward her. 

“Nope, you go rest in the living room. I’ll clean up the dishes and be in in a few minutes,” his dark eyes communicated the seriousness of his words, and rather than refuse, she nodded and watched him move into the kitchen. She made her way toward the living room, sinking onto the white couch and pressing her bare feet against the coffee table before eyeing her laptop. She listened as the water ran into the sink, dishes clattered as he loaded them into the dishwasher, and pulled her computer toward her. 

Folding her knees beneath her, she loaded the computer’s welcome screen and typed in her password, her eyes falling upon the website that had been up when she’d been waiting for Scott’s arrival. She’d been researching cribs, car seats, things she knew would be necessary to obtain prior to the baby’s arrival, and though she was only a few weeks pregnant, she wanted to be certain. She wanted the best of the best, wanted to know that her baby had all of the finest things in life. She scrolled through the site wordlessly as she listened to water run in the kitchen, raising her eyes only when she heard his footsteps moving into the living room. 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” he was smiling again, and she nearly preemptively rolled her eyes at him. “What if the baby wants to be an ice dancer?” 

He hovered in the doorway and she raised her eyebrows at him. 

“And that’s a bad thing because…” 

“Because what if she’s paired with a boy who kisses her behind the Ferris Wheel at the Ilderton carnival and then I have to kill a kid and I spend the rest of my life in prison?” He was talking fast and Tessa looked up at him, smirking before breaking into a full laugh. 

“You’re literally insane, do you know that?” 

“No, I’m serious,” Scott sank onto the couch next to her, still smiling. “You have to promise that if she wants to be a skater, it’s singles only for her. No boy dance partners.” 

“Why?” Tessa laughed again, shaking her head. 

“Because once upon a time _I_ was a boy dance partner,” he gaped at her, “I know what goes through their minds when they hold the hand of a pretty girl.” 

Tessa raised her eyebrows at him. 

“And yet here you are, twenty-four years later in the living room of that little girl who’s now all grown up. So you can’t be all bad.”

He made a non-committal groan and moved closer to her, his eyes falling upon her computer screen. 

“What are you doing?” 

She looked toward him, and then back at the screen. 

“I’m shopping,” she said the words slowly, giving him an odd look. “You know, browsing, spending money…” 

She expected him to berate her somehow, tell her that she was barely three weeks pregnant and that _don’t you think it’s a little early for this?_ But he instead pointed to a crib on the screen. 

“That’s a nice one. And look, it comes in white.” 

She studied him before turning her attention back to the computer, her mouse hovering over the photograph of the sturdy wooden crib. 

“It is nice,” she nodded in agreement. “I’ve just been trying to get an idea of the kinds of things I want,” she explained. “I’m thinking about maybe doing some kind of themed bedroom. Maybe colors, maybe something more specific.” 

He was quiet beside her for a moment. 

“Can I help?” He asked, “I mean… not necessarily picking out the items, but… you know, putting them together? Fixing the crib, painting, things like that? If you don’t decide to hire someone, I mean… but if you don’t think I-”

“I’d like that,” she smiled at him, her hand instinctively falling gently to rest on her flat stomach. “Thanks, Scott.”

They fell into a silence again, though this time it didn’t sit heavily in the air between them. It felt safe, comfortable, as she scrolled through page after page of furniture and fixtures and supplies. Scott was quick to point out the safety features of items such as changing tables and dressers, insisting that he would personally ensure that any and all furniture would be firmly bolted to the wall prior to the baby’s arrival. 

“Oh,” Scott sat up suddenly after they’d spent the better part of an hour scrolling through the site’s seemingly limitless choices, “I almost forgot. I have something for you.” 

Tessa blinked over at him, tearing her eyes away from a series of safety gates she’d been considering. 

“What is it?” 

He looked back at her as he pushed himself off the couch and into the kitchen. 

“A gift,” he answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He returned a moment later holding a small white bag, similar in both size and color to the bag she’d presented his mug in. She felt a flash of guilt and wondered for a moment if he was planning to give her something similarly biting. But of course that wasn’t something Scott would do.

He sat back on the couch beside her and presented the gift bag to her. She took it carefully, dangling it from her slender fingertips. 

“Thank you,” she said, her fingers already beginning to peel away the light pink tissue paper from within. She reached into the bag and her fingertips brushed against the soft fabric of the item. She pulled it from the bag, a smile slipping over her lips as she unfolded the item. 

“Eating chocolate for two,” she read the black words on the white t-shirt as she held it up, her eyes taking in the looped cursive, the grin on her lips spreading before she barked out a laugh. He was grinning too, pleased with himself. She felt a rush of affection for him, letting the shirt fall to her lap as she reached for him, her arms slipping around him. He hugged her, pulling her close to him, his hands running gently over her back. 

“Congratulations, Mama,” he whispered into her ear. Chills raced up her arms, down her spine, and she felt herself molding against him, the computer now pushed off her lap. She could feel his gentle breath on the side of her face and turned, burying her face in the nape of his neck. She shifted, leaning into him, letting herself be fully ensconced in his arms. He held her tighter, his hands not pausing in their gentle massage. “I’m so happy for you, T.”

She was reluctant to pull away, but she felt his hold loosen and sat back, glancing at the shirt in her lap before meeting his eyes. The thoughtfulness of the moment, the easy humor between them, all of it was more than she could suddenly handle. She felt the tears on her cheeks before she even realized she was crying, and Scott looked at her in surprise. 

“What’s wrong?” He sounded concerned, and she shook her head, wiping at her eyes. 

“Nothing,” she assured him, “I’m just happy. I’m so happy.” She sniffled, used her shoulder to wipe at her eyes, “Damn hormones already.”

He smiled then, seeming a little unsure, but when she took his hand, his grin faltered a little. 

“I want you to be involved.” 

Her voice was quieter than she’d intended it to be, but she realized that if she spoke any louder at this moment, the tears would come faster. The look of surprise returned to his face. 

“Tess… what?” 

“I want you to be involved in the baby’s life,” she repeated, squeezing his hands for reassurance. “I don’t know in what aspect, yet, but I would be doing a major disservice to my baby if you weren’t at least a part of their life.”

Despite the fact that she’d called it _her_ baby instead of _theirs_ , despite the fact that she had alluded to the idea of him being involved in the child’s life rather than being the child’s father, she saw the gratitude in his face. She saw the tears well in his eyes, and she saw as he turned away for a moment, undoubtedly to compose himself. 

The thought caused her tears to flow freely and she wiped at her eyes once more.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment, still facing away from her, his voice trembling with the words. He sat that way, with his back to her, for a long moment, and she watched him, expecting nothing more from him. 

When he turned back to her, his eyes were red but there was a smile upon his face. 

“I’m going to teach her to play hockey,” he said suddenly, his voice raw, eyes smiling. She could see the plans he was already making; the memories that hadn’t yet happened.

Her mind was reeling with the realization that she’d given him this permission despite her initial hesitation, and she wondered if she’d regret this.

But then she met his eyes once more, and she knew she’d made the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad and thankful for everyone who is enjoying and reviewing the story. I have a new story I'll be posting in (likely) a few days, but no worries, I'm fully committed to this one!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This is a very angsty chapter, BUT there is a light at the end of the tunnel and I only need a few (two?) more chapters to get to the good stuff :D You'll like it, I promise.

It felt bizarre, almost unwelcome, to be sitting in a doctor’s office and awaiting her appointment without Scott beside her. She’d grown so used to his presence, the weight of his hand upon hers as she waited for the nurse to call her name. She felt uncertain on her own, and hated the idea that she’d become so reliant on him despite her desires to do this by herself. Yet, somehow, when Scott was around, she felt safer. 

He’d asked if she’d wanted him to end his coaching engagement early, asked if she wanted him to catch an earlier flight so that he could accompany her to her appointment. She’d declined his offer, insisting that he had his own priorities and that he couldn’t just give up his life to work around her doctor’s appointments. He’d been hesitant at first, of course; had even tried to insist upon finding a replacement for the final day of his assignment, but Tessa had been persistent. 

“There will be more appointments,” she’d assured him. “After all, I’m barely eight weeks pregnant.”

As the nurse led her into the examination room, Tessa realized her mistake. 

Her prior appointments had taken place in rooms with exam tables and medical equipment, but she immediately recognized the ultrasound machine and glanced toward a nurse, who smiled and directed her to lay upon the table. 

“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling out of breath, feeling like she’d done something wrong and deceitful. “I didn’t realize today was the first ultrasound.” 

The nurse turned to her with an easy smile. 

“Well typically we like to perform the first one before the beginning of the second trimester. Since you’re already eight weeks along, we’d like to use the ultrasound today to give you a more specific due date.” She seemed to understand Tessa’s sudden reluctance and reached out to touch her arm. “If you’re worried, we can wait.” 

Tessa blinked at her, furrowed her eyebrows, and considered her words. 

She wanted Scott to be here, of course; he deserved to be here and she’d told him just a few weeks ago that she wanted him to be involved, but how could she deny the opportunity to see the life in her womb? 

“I have someone,” Tessa said numbly, “someone who should be here for this.” 

“Oh,” the nurse’s smile faltered a little, “I understand. But maybe it’s not quite what you’re expecting. Because you’re eight weeks, the fetus hasn’t done a lot of developing. What you’ll see today is just the gestational sac in which your baby is growing.” 

“Oh,” Tessa breathed again, and somehow, that felt better. It felt less like lying, she decided. Scott had been at the insemination with her, he’d already seen the eggs and an intimate view of her uterus. A small, blurry circle on a black-and-white screen wasn’t exactly the same as seeing the profile of the baby, the soft curve of her forehead and chin. Scott would understand. 

Wouldn’t he?

It wasn’t long before she was reclined on the table, her shirt pushed up beneath her breasts and her pants tugged down past her bellybutton. As the nurses moved around her, she studied the smooth pale skin of her abdomen. She wasn’t showing yet; there no slight swell to her belly, but the sharp lines of her abdominal muscles had already begun to fade away and the sight brought her both a rush of excitement and reservation. 

The doctor entered the room and they shared a brief conversation before she squirted a cool gel onto the exposed skin of Tessa’s abdomen. She flinched a little, then giggled nervously, desperately wishing Scott was here at this moment. He’d make a stupid joke, make her roll her eyes and forget about the discomfort of the wand pressed firmly against her belly. His warm fingers would be wrapped around hers, encouraging her, maybe pressing his lips to the back of her hand. 

But Scott wasn’t here, and the guilt that washed over her at the realization that it was because of her that he wasn’t here was too great for her to consider. Instead, she turned her attention to the screen of the ultrasound machine, which now displayed the inside of her womb. 

There was a small circular-shaped object projected on the screen, a distorted image within the dark, open space of her womb that wouldn’t have been recognizable had she not been told directly what it was. 

“Here is your baby,” the doctor grinned, circling the absurd-looking bundle of nerves with her mouse. “It doesn’t look like much right now, but the bigger he or she gets, you’ll start to see more defined features.”

It was difficult to process the image, and she was somewhat dismayed at the fact that she hadn’t fallen completely in love with the tiny shape as soon as she’d seen it. She felt a sinking sense of disappointment at the realization that her baby hadn’t yet began to form into a human with recognizable features, and suddenly missed Scott more than ever. 

“Judging from the size of the fetus,” the doctor spoke, using the mouse of the computer to span the millimeters of the embryo, “I’d say you’re probably due around early December.”

“December,” Tessa echoed, “That seems so far away.”

“Right now, it does,” the doctor grinned, “but believe me, it goes by fast.” 

Tessa smiled, turning her face into her shoulder. The past eight weeks had gone by quickly, it was true, but the thought of waiting another seven months to meet their baby seemed damn near impossible. 

No. Jesus, what was she thinking? Her baby. _Hers. Not theirs._

“All right, are you ready to hear the heartbeat?” The doctor asked, and Tessa looked toward her suddenly. 

“What?” 

“The fetal heartbeat,” the doctor responded, still smiling. “You’re eight weeks, so we should be able to hear the baby’s heart loud and clear.” 

And before she was given a choice, before she even had the chance to ask the doctor to stop, that Scott wouldn’t understand, that it would devastate him to miss this, the steady and rapid drumbeat filled the room and all conscious thought was lost on Tessa. 

At the sound, she burst into tears. That was her baby. Her baby’s heartbeat. The sound was like a hummingbird’s heart, so incredibly quick and light that it almost felt surreal, and she glanced toward the screen, an impossibly tiny flicker catching her eyes. 

“Oh my god,” she breathed, her eyes welling with unshed tears. “Is that it?” 

“That’s your baby’s heart,” the doctor nodded. “Right now the rate of beats per minute is about 160. That’ll slow down as he or she develops more.” She glanced down at Tessa. “That will also help us make a guess to determine the gender of the baby. Do you have a preference?” 

“We think it’s a girl,” Tessa said automatically, her eyes still drawn to the screen. 

“Oh?” The doctor asked, “You and your husband?” 

“Uh,” Tessa glanced away the screen momentarily, searching her mind for the right answer. _My sperm donor and I who have hesitantly agreed to co-parent despite the fact that we have absolutely no idea how this is going to work?_ “No.”

The smile faded from the doctor’s lips for a moment before she moved the wand again, Tessa’s eyes watching every movement she made. She stared, hypnotized, at the screen, the sound of the baby’s heartbeat playing over the speakers. 

She didn’t want it to end, didn’t want the doctor to draw the wand away from her belly, never wanted to stop watching that slight flicker, hear the faint yet powerful rhythm of her baby’s heart. 

When the appointment was over and she had slid from the examination table, she reached into her purse and grabbed her phone. There was a missed call and a text from Scott, and instantly her heart lit up with excitement. 

God, she couldn’t wait to tell him. She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face, hear the excitement in his voice when she told him about hearing their baby’s heartbeat and-

No, not theirs. Hers. 

She swiped the screen and smiled at the words in his text message. 

_Hey, T! I managed to catch an earlier flight home today! I’m just getting home now, call me after your appointment!_

Tessa glanced at the time he’d sent the message; it had been nearly thirty minutes ago. He would still be home, and it would take her less than fifteen minutes to drive to his house. She couldn’t share this with him over text or a phone call, she wanted to speak to him in person. 

She drove carefully to his house, making sure to stay below the speed limit, thinking only of that faint flicker and the sound of her baby’s heartbeat. It was the only thing she needed to accompany her as she made her way through the streets of London, the rhythm playing in her mind as she focused on sharing this moment with Scott. 

She wished suddenly that she’d recorded the sound, taken a picture of the screen, regretted being so caught up in the moment that she’d failed to recognize the importance of capturing such a milestone. Scott would have loved to have seen it. But he would see it next time, she rationalized. 

**

Scott caught sight of Tessa as she made her way down the walk and to his front door. His breath caught in his throat as he rushed to greet her, pulling open the screen door and catching her in a tight hug before pulling away and pressing a kiss to the side of her head. 

“Hey!” He could barely contain the excitement in his voice as his arms encircled her, pulling her tight to his chest. “How was the appointment?”

Her hands were on his back, lightly tracing the ridge of his muscles through his shirt. Her touch felt light and distant and he pulled away, smiling at the emotion in her eyes. 

“What?” He asked lightly, his fingertips brushing against her arm. 

She let out a breath, her eyes suddenly watering with tears. 

“Scott, I heard the baby’s heartbeat!” 

She said the words in a rush, spreading her arms to capture him in another hug, pressing herself tightly against him. 

He blinked, settling into her embrace, the words catching in his mind. 

“Wait…” he placed a gentle hand on her back before stepping away from her, “what?” 

“The heartbeat,” she breathed again, her eyes glistening with tears, her smile full and happy. “I heard the baby’s heartbeat. God, Scott, it was so incredible… and I saw it, actually saw the baby, and-”

“You saw the baby?” The words left his mouth in a rush, the harsh edge of his words causing her eyebrows to furrow in what he assumed was confusion. “I thought you said this was a typical appointment. You told me not to even bother trying to change my schedule.”

Her lips parted slightly, seeming to understand that he didn’t share her excitement. 

“Scott, I…” she shook her head, “I didn’t expect that to happen at this appointment. I was totally taken off-guard.” 

“Didn’t they give you the option to wait?” He asked, his voice exhibiting the betrayal he suddenly felt. 

Tessa’s mouth opened, her eyes going dark and wide, tears brimming her lashes. 

“Well I didn’t have much of a choice,” she defended herself, her voice suddenly shrill. “What was I supposed to say? No, I don’t want to see my baby?” 

“You should have told them to wait,” he shot back suddenly, feeling his skin flush with anger and indignation. “You should have known how much I wanted to be there for that, Tessa!” 

“What?” She scoffed the word in disbelief, “Scott, I didn’t know-” 

She paused suddenly, her eyes catching on something behind him. His heart was racing in his chest, the anger bubbling with him as he looked at her. Her distraction frustrated him further and he turned to look at what had caught her eye. He saw it right away, a guilt settling into his chest despite the hurt that resided there. 

“Tessa,” he was already saying her voice, trying to make the situation better in spite of the way his heart ached, but she was already pushing past him and into the room, stooping to pick up the mug that sat in pieces on the coffee table. “Tessa, I didn’t mean to-”

“How could you?” She spun to face him suddenly, her eyes full of tears, the pieces of the mug she’d given him cradled in her hands as if they were as delicate as a bird’s egg. “I know I hurt your feelings, Scott, but I didn’t think you’d destroy the gift I gave to you!” 

He growled in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes despite the guilt that suddenly overwhelmed him. 

“I didn’t destroy it!” He defended himself automatically, but the sadness and helplessness in Tessa’s eyes made him look away. “It was an accident!” 

And it had been, at least consciously. He’d been careless with the mug, had tossed it into the sink on the night he’d brought it home, desperate not to see the four words that reduced him to nothing more than a biological vessel. He’d known the moment it had hit the steel that it had broken, had felt the sickening guilt in his stomach when he’d finally peered into the sink and saw that the mug had busted on impact. He’d hissed, picking each piece from the sink regretfully, placing them on the coffee table in an attempt to remind himself that he needed to have it fixed. 

Apparently that reminder had been in vain. 

He looked at Tessa, cradling the mug as if it were their baby, a fat, solitary tear slipping down her cheek as she studied the broken pieces. The sight both infuriated him and devastated him. 

“Tessa it’s just a mug,” he attempted to ration, knowing the words were wrong the moment they slipped from his mouth. She looked up at him, her watery eyes narrowing. 

“It’s not just a mug,” she hissed the words at him, “that was the gift I gave you for giving me this baby!”

“Yeah, a gift to remind me exactly what I am to you,” he shot back, “a fucking sperm donor.” 

And there it was. He’d tried to dance around the issue, had tried to avoid using that exact term, but it had slipped from him without realization. He caught a breath, standing and watching the way she glanced up from the broken glass in her hands. 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Scott?” 

He heard the quiver in her voice, the way her pink lips which had just recently been turned up into a smile now trembled with emotion. 

He didn’t respond for a moment, couldn’t bear to speak as he looked at her, the sadness in her eyes palpable. 

“It means that you said I could be a part of this,” he finally spoke, his voice low, trying not to look at the way she cradled the broken mug. Guilt washed over him in waves, nausea at the sight of her sadness sweeping through him. He swallowed before meeting her eyes. “This is my baby, too.” 

“What?” She said the word so quietly that he wondered if she’d heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

He stared at her, saw the way her green eyes narrowed as she watched him. His hand nervously moved up to rub the back of his neck, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“I said this is my baby, too,” he repeated finally. “No matter how it was conceived, it’s still my sperm and your eggs. It’s our baby, Tessa. I should have been at that appointment.” 

He saw the flush of rage in her face, the complex mix of anger and hurt and confusion that marked her features. He watched as she placed the broken mug back onto the coffee table before turning her attention to him once more. 

“This isn’t about you, Scott! This was never about you! From the beginning, I told you the role you were expected to play. You agreed to be my sperm donor, and that’s it. Any further privileges you get from me are because you’re my best friend and I love you, not because you jerked off into a cup.” 

Her words were hard, her voice cold, and he sucked his breath in, taken aback.

He heard her take a breath and watched as her jaw set, her eyes suddenly hard and narrow. 

“The more I think about it,” she said quietly after a moment, “the more I think it would have just been easier to go with an anonymous donor.”

“Yeah,” he spat the word at her, “maybe I should have just said no like I wanted to.”

 _Jesus._ He didn’t mean that. He didn’t mean it when the thought had formed in his head and he hadn’t meant it when the words had spilled from his lips. He was already trying to fix his mistake, reaching out to her when he heard her gasp and whimper, sucking her breath in. 

When he met her eyes, he saw the tears in them once more, saw the way her lower lip trembled. Suddenly, she turned, her dark hair whipping behind her as she moved to the front door. 

“Tess,” he said softly, hating himself. He would never be able to forget the hurt in her eyes, never be able to forget that in this moment, as he heard her sob softly to herself, she was crying because of him. “Tessa, wait!”

But she didn’t wait. In fact, she moved faster, practically racing down the front walk she’d so excitedly made her way down just moments before. He attempted to follow her, realizing that with each step he took, her pace increased. By the time she reached her car, she’d broken into a run. 

Scott stood watching as she hurriedly buckled herself into the car and backed down the driveway. He watched, his jaw clenched, as her car disappeared. 

He would call her later, and they could talk this over. She’d understand. They’d be back to shopping online for baby furniture by the end of tomorrow. 

Except, in the back of his mind, he knew that he’d cut Tessa too deeply this time. 

The flow of her tears may as well have been blood.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well, look who got through the angsty part of this story... it's you! Fluff, fluff, and more fluff to come! Enjoy!

Tessa found respite in work. It had always been that way; when she was upset or heartbroken, she worked harder. In their skating days, it had meant pushing herself to her own physical limits, training until her muscles were sore and tears streamed down her face. It brought her a sense of comfort, being able to control the physical pain when the emotional was too much to bear. 

It was different now, of course. She wasn’t skating, and she wasn’t doing anything more physical than attending photoshoots and board meetings. She still worked out, but to a much lesser extent and only in ways that her doctor had deemed appropriate for her condition. It wasn’t necessarily physical exertion, at least not in the same way. It was moving from city to city, sleeping in hotels and eating quick meals in order to promote energy. It was photoshoot after photoshoot, events and speeches and falling asleep at midnight just to wake up at three AM to start over again. It wasn’t ideal, she knew.

Still, she found that pushing herself was a way to numb the pain she felt regarding Scott and the remorse he’d expressed when it came to her pregnancy. She’d been worried since he’d agreed to the donation that it would be something he’d come to regret, but after the night at her house where they’d sat close to one another on the couch, talking and laughing over future plans, she’d thought he’d been happy. 

The joy in his eyes had been real, she’d convinced herself, when she’d told him about the success of the procedure, but as she reflected on the interaction they’d had since that encounter, she wondered if he was better at faking her out than she’d ever realized. 

The words he’d said to her that day at his house, a little over three weeks ago now, had hurt her more than she’d thought physically possible. She’d managed to keep herself together on the drive home, bursting into tears once she’d made her way into her own house. She’d worked herself into such a frenzy that she’d hated him, terrified that it would have a negative effect on the pregnancy, scared to death that her emotional upheaval would somehow damage the fragile life inside of her. 

She hadn’t spoken to him in nearly a month, though to be fair she’d avoided his text messages and phone calls. She’d watched her phone ring, his face lighting up the screen, and waited until the call had gone to voicemail. Without listening to his words, without knowing what he had to say, she’d deleted the messages. 

Each day, she felt the impact of her pregnancy. Whether it was in the gym or when she was slipping into an outfit for a photo shoot, she realized the differences. She couldn’t bend quite as far, couldn’t wear shirts that defined her stomach muscles without seeing the slight bump. It was a source of pride at first, knowing that she’d accomplished the goal she’d so desperately sought out, but as she studied the photographs taken of her through the shoots, she found herself feeling unsure. 

She wasn’t sure how to handle the complex emotions she suddenly found herself experiencing. She’d wanted this so much, craved the ability to see the growth of her child, but the more her abdominal muscles faded into distant memory, the more hesitant she became. She loved the way she felt, of course; everyone told her that she’d begun to glow with the pregnancy, and she felt beautiful, for the most part. But there were moments when she suddenly worried that the decades of training she’d put herself through were for naught. 

Scott had sent her one particular message this afternoon that had nearly broken the determination she’d put into ignoring him. Three simple words. 

_I miss you._

She’d stared at the phone screen for longer than she’d like to admit, her fingers hovering over the letters. There were so many things she wanted to say: _I miss you, too_ being one of them, but then she thought of that broken mug, of the coldness in his eyes when he’d expressed his remorse for taking part in this process, and her fingers were flying over the keys. 

_Please give me some space, Scott._

She knew he would respect her wishes; he’d spent the better part of his life following her directions, but then she thought of that mug again and she found herself typing another message. 

_I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract regarding the baby. I think it’s important we make the distinction in our roles clear for all of our sakes._

She sat, waiting for his response, and when she saw the tiny Read pop up beneath the message, she expected him to respond with hurt or anger. She waited five minutes, then ten, and then when she decided he had no intention of replying to her, she’d locked her phone and placed it on her bedside dresser. 

That night as she prepared for bed, she attempted to slip into her favorite sleep shirt and found that it no longer fit her. It was a welcome surprise at first as she folded it back into her drawer and retrieved a plain white t-shirt from a clean pile of laundry. She slipped it on, watched as the shirt swallowed her, and moved to the wide bathroom mirror. She turned to the side, cradling her hands over her belly and pressing her shirt to the slightly swollen bump. She smiled to herself, enjoying the feel of the firmness beneath the shirt before pushing it up beneath her breasts and studying her bare skin. 

Her skin was pale, milky-white, and she traced her fingers over the curve of her belly. It felt so odd, she’d been so slender and in such top physical shape for so long that it felt almost foreign, studying the way her skin curved. She let the shirt fall back down, padded barefoot back into her bedroom and pulled back the white sheets. She glanced once more at her phone on the bedside table before slipping beneath the sheets. 

There were no calls, no messages. Scott had taken the hint, and for that she wasn’t sure if she was thankful or disappointed.

She fell into an easy sleep, blinking awake at nearly three o’clock in the morning. The moon was bright outside, its light blanketing her bed. It took her a moment to register the discomfort in her abdomen, shifting beneath her sheets and curling onto her side. It wasn’t until her hand absentmindedly brushed the slight swell of her belly that she felt the chill run from the base of her spine. 

She let out a strangled cry, startling up in bed and clutching her belly. The cramps weren’t severe, weren’t even necessarily similar to period cramps, but the pain was consistent and definitely there, and it drew her from beneath her sheets and into the bathroom. 

She tugged at her underwear, whimpering at the spots of blood that stained the light blue cotton. She felt the tears hit the back of her eyes, felt her heart seize in her chest. This couldn’t be happening; she’d been doing everything right, save of course for her busy schedule, but what effect would that have on her baby? She’d pushed herself, she knew, but never with the intention or knowledge that it would cause any sort of damage to the life within her. 

She was paralyzed with fear briefly, too scared to move or do anything but wipe gently at herself with a wad of toilet paper. When the white cloth came away streaked with red, she pushed herself into action. 

Tugging her underwear up, she scurried back into her bedroom and reached for her phone. Her first thought was to call her mother, to call an ambulance, to call… Scott. Immediately she navigated to his contact in her phone and pressed the screen, holding the phone to her ear as hot tears began to burn her eyes. The phone rang once, twice, and then- 

“Tessa?” His voice was desperate, obviously full of sleep. She’d woken him, of course, but to his credit, he’d answered nearly immediately. 

“I’m bleeding,” she barely managed to pant the words, the tears breaking the barrier of her eyelashes and slipping down her cheeks. “Scott I’m bleeding and I have cramps. I’m scared.” 

“Tess,” she could already hear him pulling himself out of bed, suddenly wide awake. “I’m on my way. I’ll take you to the hospital. It’s going to be okay.” 

She slid down onto the mattress, still clutching her belly, seeing only those droplets of blood. She felt herself beginning to hyperventilate, felt the racing of her heart in her chest, the heat in her face. Suddenly his voice was there again, still talking to her despite the fact that she could hear him tugging on his clothes. 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay by the phone and if anything happens before I get there, call an ambulance. If the pain gets worse, if there’s more blood…” he hesitated on the last word, and she could hear the anguish in his voice. “And Tess, everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

But he couldn’t promise that. There was no way for him to guarantee that everything would be okay, that she wouldn’t bleed out the baby she’d dreamed of right here on her bedroom floor. She let out a strangled groan and nodded, curling onto the bed. 

“Please hurry,” she said softly, her voice breaking. 

“I will, Tess, I swear I will.” 

And then he was gone, disconnecting the call and leaving her in silence. She tried to steady her breathing as she tugged on a pair of yoga pants, pulling a sweater over the plain white t-shirt and carrying her phone into the living room. She dropped the phone into her purse, swung it onto her shoulder, and made her way to the front door.   
By the time Scott arrived, she was perched on the front stoop of her home. 

He pulled into the driveway, braking with a shriek and hurrying over to her. She hesitated, the muscles in her abdomen seizing as she rose from her position. His hands were on her immediately, guiding her to his car, whispering words of comfort to her as he guided her with a hand on her lower back.   
He crossed the car, slipped into the driver’s seat and glanced toward her. 

He watched as she buckled her seatbelt and when she met his eyes, she saw that they were wet with tears. 

He opened his mouth to say something, maybe to comfort her, or to apologize, but closed it just as quickly and put the car in reverse. 

They didn’t speak as he raced through the streets, but at some point during the ride she realized that his hand had found hers. His thumb traced the back of her fingers, squeezed her hand. 

By the time they reached the hospital, her face was wet. 

He pulled into the emergency parking, raced around the car and swung the door open. Tessa glanced back as he led her inside, car doors open and car idling. Scott didn’t even seem to notice. 

“She’s pregnant,” he was murmuring before Tessa even had the chance to speak to the intake coordinator, “she’s pregnant and she’s bleeding. Please help us.” 

There was a moment of confusion, and despite Scott’s pleas, despite the pain in her abdomen and the knowledge that she was wearing underwear spotted with blood, she managed to give the receptionist her name and insurance information. Scott stood beside her, clutching her hand, eyes never leaving her. 

Orderlies arrived and helped Tessa into a wheel chair, and a few moments later they were being escorted back to the emergency unit. She was sick and scared as they moved her down the hall, past empty rooms and rooms filled with people who had their own urgent health crises. Scott was beside her the entire way, never dropping her hand, even as they arrived at a room and helped Tessa climb into bed. 

“A doctor will be right with you,” one of the orderlies assured her and laid out a gown and a fresh pair of hospital-issued underwear and socks. Tessa glanced at Scott, her breath caught in her throat. 

“You’re okay,” he reassured her, leaning in now to wipe away the tears had already begun to collect in her eyelashes. “You’re here, you’re safe. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She didn’t even have to ask; he regarded her as she began to slip out of her sweater and turned his eyes away from her. She tugged off the t-shirt she’d worn to bed and slipped her arms through the sleeves of the hospital gown. Leaning forward, the cramps easing slightly in her abdomen, she tugged down her underwear and crumpled it into a ball beneath her discarded clothing. The hospital-issued underwear was stretchy and hugged the slight curve of her belly. Looking once more at the spots of blood on her clothing, she let out another breathless sob and Scott turned to her instinctively, his eyes dark with concern. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” she admitted softly, her hands curling around her abdomen, “I’m so scared.” 

“Tess,” he said, and his voice was wrecked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“This isn’t your fault,” she sobbed suddenly, and then the tears were streaming down her cheeks. His arms were encircling her, his mouth pressed to her ear as he pulled her to him. They sat that way for a long moment, Tessa weeping into his shoulder. 

The curtain that separated their room from the lobby of the emergency room was brushed aside and a blonde woman appeared, her white lab coat parted to reveal a pair of black slacks and a tasteful blouse. Tessa’s eyes raised as she entered the room, the doctor serving her with a sympathetic smile. 

“Tessa, I’m Doctor Taylor,” the blonde woman introduced herself, extending a slender hand to Tessa. Tessa was surprised she found the strength to grip the other woman’s fingers in a handshake, her eyes full and wide as she watched her. She glanced toward Scott, offered him a smile and a handshake as well before settling on the edge of the hospital bed. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“I’m pregnant,” Tessa said quickly, her voice breaking as she spoke, “Nine weeks pregnant. Almost ten. I woke up around three o’clock and realized I was cramping. I went to the washroom and there was…” she glanced toward Scott, who was watching her with eyes full of concern, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. “There was some blood. And I… I don’t know… I’m scared…” 

“Okay,” the doctor smiled gently at her, furrowing her eyebrows. “Have you been experiencing any other symptoms? Any fevers? Nausea or vomiting?” 

“No,” Tessa shook her head quickly, “nothing. I’ve been taking my vitamins and eating right. I work out, but not excessively so. I don’t drink or smoke. I haven’t done anything wrong.” Her voice caught in her throat and she began to cry softly, Scott sighing and slipping his arm around her once more, pulling her into him. “I work a lot. Maybe too much. Maybe I haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“Tess, shh,” he soothed her.

Doctor Taylor reached out, placing a hand gently on Tessa’s knee. 

“We’ll get you checked out, okay? And I want you to know that it’s not abnormal to experience some first-trimester spotting. What I’d like to do today is to begin with a fetal heartbeat monitor. If we can pick up a heartbeat, we may be able to avoid doing an internal exam, which would be for the best.” 

Tessa nodded breathlessly, catching Scott’s eye. He offered her a tired smile, squeezing her hand for reassurance. 

After the doctor had slipped from the room to collect the equipment, Tessa let her gaze fall upon Scott. She waited for him to say something, to attempt to distract her from the moment or try to make her laugh, but he caught his breath and remained quiet. The only sound in the room was the distant beeping of machines from other rooms, monitors that relayed life and death. 

It couldn’t have been more than a few moments until the doctor returned with a nurse carting a small machine that Tessa immediately recognized from the day she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat. Scott’s eyes fell upon on it at the same time and she felt his grip loosen, likely reflexively, before squeezing her hand again. 

As the doctor described the process to Tessa and Scott, the nurse began to set up the machine, gently instructing Tessa to lift her gown. With no more than a sideways glance to Scott, she tugged the gown up, past her thighs and hips and folded it beneath her breasts. She felt his eyes on her exposed skin and she slipped the hospital-issued underwear past her hips, exposing her lower abdomen. 

“What’s your pain level right now?” The doctor wondered, glancing toward the nurse as she applied the transducer to Tessa’s belly.   
Tessa hesitated for a moment, considering. 

“The cramping is mostly gone. There’s a little tenderness.” 

The doctor nodded and the nurse switched on the machine. 

It took another long moment, and Tessa held her breath, closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed to god to hear that steady rhythm once more, to be overwhelmed by the beat that had played in her mind for the past month. To know that her baby was okay. 

She could feel Scott beside her, could feel the way he held his breath until the noise suddenly filled the room like music. The quick, rhythmic thump of the fetal heartbeat.   
She let out a breath that turned into a laugh-sob and felt Scott sag with relief beside her. It appeared to take him a moment to understand the gravity of the situation, to understand that what he was hearing wasn’t just proof of life; it was their child’s heartbeat. 

“There we go,” the doctor grinned at Tessa and then Scott, “we have a heartbeat. That’s good. Now we’re going to let this sit for a few minutes. As it counts the baby’s heartbeat, we’ll get a printout that lets us know the beats per minute, and from that, we’ll be able to tell if baby’s in any distress.” 

At the stricken look on Scott’s face, Tessa squeezed his hand. They sat in silence for another moment as the doctor and nurse slipped from the room, leaving the two of them alone. 

She realized suddenly that Scott had appeared to sink into his chair, his eyes focused on the machine as it recorded the thumps of the fetus’ heart. His jaw was set, his eyes wet and wide. 

“Scott?” 

His lips parted, he tried to speak, but nothing came out. He sat in silence, eyes flicking between the monitor’s screen and Tessa’s face. She could imagine the complex emotions running through his mind, had felt them herself a few weeks ago when she’d heard the baby’s heartbeat. She wanted to speak to him, wanted him to tell her what he was feeling, but she closed her eyes and let herself be overwhelmed by the steady thump, thump of the heartbeat. 

It was nearly thirty minutes before the doctor had returned, reviewed the results of the monitoring, and cleared Tessa with a smile. 

“One hundred-fifty beats per minute,” the doctor had grinned, “no cause for concern. I’d like you to try to get more rest, and maybe lay off working so much, eh?” 

When the machine had been wheeled from the room and silence fell between them once more, Scott turned to her, his hazel eyes wet with emotion. 

“Tess,” he barely managed to speak her name before he was sobbing, fat tears slipping down his cheeks as he grasped for her hands, fingers resting on her thigh. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Tessa.” 

Looking at him now, crying and fallen against her lap, seeing the anguish in his eyes, there was nothing she could do but comfort him. She was hurt, of course; she wondered if she’d ever forget the way he’d looked at her when he’d told her he regretted agreeing to this, but she also knew that he’d spoken out of his own pain. She thought of the hurt in his eyes when she’d given him the mug, wondered if he’d felt the way she had. So naïve and foolish. 

But now, seeing him this way, she knew that that the ways in which they’d hurt each other needed to stop. 

“Scott,” she spoke his name, threading her fingers through his hair, “look at me.” 

His hazel eyes moved to hers, his face a portrait of despair. He let out a wrecked noise, his jaw trembling despite his attempt to steady it. 

“The baby’s okay,” she said gently, her fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. “Everything’s okay, just like you said it would be.”

He sniffled, straightening himself a little, his eyes rimmed red. 

“I’m so stupid,” he shook his head, voice breaking. “I was being so selfish. I was only thinking about myself, about what I was getting out of this, and I shouldn’t have said what I did. Jesus, Tessa.” Another sob escaped him and she felt herself shushing him, her hand falling from his hair to his hand. “I don’t regret this. Being able to help you with this has been the most amazing experience of my entire life.” 

“I forgive you,” she said after she’d linked his fingers with hers, and she found that it was the truth. His words still stung, the memory of them sharp like a knife, but she knew that he’d been speaking from anger, from his own betrayal, and seeing him now convinced her of that. 

She wet her lips, his hand pausing on his. 

“I didn’t mean what I said, either,” she spoke after a moment, meeting his eyes. “About the contract and the lawyer. I was upset. I was devastated. I was speaking from a place of pain, just like you were.” 

Relief flashed in his eyes, but she swore it was more than that. It wasn’t the idea that there wouldn’t be a legal contract regarding the child, she knew; it was the fact that she trusted him, fully and without condition. 

“I would never disrespect your wishes about your baby,” he said softly, his eyes sincere. 

“I know,” she nodded gently, clutching his hand and lifting it from her thigh. He watched as she tugged the hospital gown up once more, his eyes falling over her thighs, underwear, lower abdomen. She felt herself flush as he appraised her body, knowing that he’d seen her in more revealing outfits, but not in a long time and never in this way. 

“Tess?” He asked, and before he could say more, she’d pushed the gown over her stomach and pressed his hand to the slight swell of her abdomen. His eyes flicked to her face and then to her skin, his fingers flexing as she released his hand, encouraging him to cup her belly. 

“I know,” she repeated, meeting his eyes with a soft smile, watching as his fingers molded around the tiny bump of her abdomen. “But I think you’re forgetting something.” 

“What’s that?” He asked, his eyes never drawing away from the soft curve of her belly, captivated by the way it felt beneath his hand. 

“It’s not just my baby, Scott. It’s ours.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet chapter because I've been overloaded with work. Who says 13 is an unlucky number?

“I’ll have two poached eggs,” Tessa grinned up at the waitress, “a side of wheat toast, and a fruit cup.” She glanced toward Scott, her green eyes sparkling. “What’ll you have?” 

She smiled as he rambled off his order, ordering what she could only assume was the greasiest item in the restaurant before the waitress collected their menus and headed toward the kitchen. 

“Are you nervous?” He asked, his fingers curling at the edge of the table. Tessa felt the corners of her lips turning up, her eyes flitting away from his for only a moment as she studied the other patrons in the diner. 

“About the appointment?” 

Even now, twenty weeks into her pregnancy, it was difficult to believe. She felt her belly grow each day with the life inside, watched as her figure changed, her belly swelled and her breasts grew. She found herself tracing the bump beneath her shirt with her fingers more often than not, found herself worrying about the way her clothes would fit. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying the way she felt, necessarily, it was just… different. 

It was hard to look in the mirror and not see the defined ridges of her abdominal muscles. It was harder still to be limited in her movements, no longer able to exercise the way she always had. She’d spent over two decades chasing the burn of her muscles, pushing herself to the point of exhaustion, and now she found herself tired and aching after a jog.   
She’d cut back on work after the hospital visit; she’d spent the next two weeks tying up loose ends, deciding which sponsorships were most important to her and completing her contractual agreements with the others. She’d been so busy in her work, too busy to think about the effect all of the stress and traveling was having upon the life inside her, and she’d decided the night after the hospital visit that it was no longer about her, it was about the baby. 

Scott had sat with her on the couch as she’d stormed (and, yes, cried) about the stress of the sponsorships, never once stopping her to remind her that she’d voluntarily taken them on. She’d met his eyes time and time again to find him watching her sympathetically, never judging or interrupting her to prove a point. By the end of the night, she’d come to her conclusions and Scott had sat smiling, watching, as if he’d never been more proud of anyone in his life. 

She met his eyes again now as he sat on the other side of the booth in the diner they’d recently discovered and had begun to frequent. 

“Not necessarily just the appointment,” he returned, “I guess I mean everything. Labor, delivery, all that stuff?” 

Tessa smiled once more, instinctively placing a hand on the slight swell of her belly. 

“I’m excited,” she answered truthfully, and at the smirk on his lips, faltered just slightly. “Okay. Excited and a little bit terrified.” 

He laughed softly, reaching across the table hesitantly to brush his fingers over her hand. Without pause, she turned her palm to the sky, allowing his fingers to link with hers. 

“You’re going to be amazing,” he encouraged her, meeting her eyes, and the flush of pride was almost too much to stand. “And I’m going to be by you the entire time.” 

Their relationship had grown in the past month, into something much more complex than either of them had ever known. They weren’t together, hadn’t so much as kissed, but the intimacy of their touch had grown. The way she curled against him on her couch on evenings when he visited, the way his knuckles brushed her thighs as he pulled her legs onto his lap, his fingers rubbing the ache from her calves. It was more than they’d ever done, closer than they’d ever been. 

And it still wasn’t enough. 

“So today’s the day,” he grinned at her around a mouth full of bacon as she speared a strawberry with her fork. “You ready to find out what we’re having?” 

God, it still felt so bizarre, though not necessarily unwelcome, to hear him refer to the baby this way. _Ours. We._ What had begun as a journey of single motherhood had begun to transform into something that Tessa couldn’t quite wrap her head around, couldn’t understand even when she was facing it head on. But he was there for the appointments, for the cravings, and when all of it got to be too much. He had been there for nearly every moment, and Tessa could no longer imagine making it through the process on her own. 

“I’m ready,” she smiled, taking a bite of her toast and chewing thoughtfully before placing it back on her plate. “You still saying a girl?” 

“I’m still saying a girl,” he nodded, fingers curling in hers. “What about you?” 

Of course he knew. They’d spent the past several weeks discussing it, bundled on one of their couches, his hand pressed gently against the curve of her belly. They’d talked and talked until it felt like there was no more left to say, but the excitement shone in his eyes and she knew that it was something they’d never grow tired of speaking about. 

“I’m not sure,” she shrugged, teasing him with a soft smile, “I just want her… or him to be healthy.” 

Scott’s eyes flickered with an emotion she couldn’t quite place; love, maybe satisfaction. 

“I want her…” he spoke slowly, then grinned, “or him to be healthy as well. And she… or he will be. But I’m gonna have to go team Baby Girl Virtue. I just feel it.”

“How are you so certain?” She asked, her eyes narrowing playfully. “And who’s the one carrying the baby here?” 

“You are,” he laughed, “of course you are. And you’re beautiful while doing it.” 

She felt a flush creep into her cheeks, brought a bite of egg to her mouth. 

“Don’t change the subject,” she threatened him emptily, but let his words linger between them. She studied the food on her plate, attempting not to count every calorie, to remember that although she was taking in more calories now, she could balance out the weight she gained throughout the pregnancy if she worked harder after the baby was born, pushed herself to get back into the shape she’d been in before her belly had started to grow to support the life inside. 

By the time they’d arrived to the doctor’s office and settled into their room, Tessa’s stomach was jittery with nerves. She was reclined on an exam table, feeling every beat of her heart as Scott sat beside her, his eyes moving curiously around the room to examine the unfamiliar equipment. 

“What’s that?” He asked a nurse who had followed them into the room, indicating a mobile computer monitor and keyboard, pretending to run his fingers over the keys. 

“Scott,” Tessa chided him softly, rolling her eyes at the playful grin he shot her. And then, to the nurse: “I’m sorry. He’s a child sometimes.” 

“This is the ultrasound machine,” the nurse smiled at Tessa before directing her attention to Scott. “This is the screen where you’ll see your baby.” 

The words grounded him, left him quiet and humbled and looking toward Tessa with eyes full of emotion. The nurse smiled at them once more. 

“Are you ready to see your little one?” 

*

Scott found himself unable to speak suddenly, fingers curling into his palms as he settled beside Tessa in a chair. He met her green eyes, saw the excitement and nerves within them, and wet his lips with his tongue. 

Almost unconsciously, he pushed himself to the edge of the seat, reaching for Tessa’s hand. He was pleased but not surprised when she allowed him to take her fingers within his own, curling it within his grasp. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, his eyes studying her face for a long moment before she began to shift to push up her shirt at the nurse’s request. 

His first instinct was to turn his eyes away, but when Tessa met his gaze, she squeezed his hand. He saw the approval within her eyes, knew it was nothing he hadn’t seen at the hospital, and so watched as she tugged her shirt past her belly button and tucked it beneath the soft swell of her breasts. Her skin was milky white, smooth and curved impossibly softly as it was exposed. He wanted to reach out and touch the delicate bump again, hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of it since she’d given him express permission to touch her. 

He always asked, even now, because as badly as he craved unrestricted access to Tessa’s body, he recognized that the baby was still a part of her. There had been plenty of times throughout their career when he’d gone in for an embrace and she’d placed her hand on his chest, silently informing him that she wasn’t in the mood to be touched. He remembered that now, tried to consider how sensitive she might be, and curled his fingers into fists as he watched the nurse squirt a gel onto Tessa’s belly. 

It must have been cold, because she flinched and then laughed, meeting his eyes once more, baby hairs flying from her bun as she let her head fall back, mouth opening with a gasp of surprise. 

He felt himself laughing too, watching her, wondering how he’d managed to keep himself from falling head-over-heels in love with her over the past two decades. 

Once the nurse pressed the small round instrument to her belly, Scott watched as Tessa’s eyes were drawn from him to the distorted image on the screen. He knew he should look, he wanted to look, but the awe in Tessa’s eyes kept him watching her for just a moment longer. The way her lips parted in quiet wonder, her green eyes taking in every inch of the image. It was beautiful. So beautiful, he thought. More beautiful than anything that could be on that screen. Watching her watch their baby was, to date, the most magical thing he’d ever seen. 

And when he transferred his gaze from Tessa’s soft face to the image on the screen, there was a sudden tightening in his chest. He hadn’t expected to see the image on the screen, at least not like this… but there it was: the distinctive shape of a human being within Tessa’s womb. Head, the soft curve of a nose and a chin. One tiny hand splayed, fingers spread wide, and he counted five digits. He heard Tessa mumble and then she laugh-cried, just as the way she had when he’d stood beside her on that Olympic podium twice, just as he had when she’d told him about her pregnancy in her home. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. 

He wanted to stare forever, wanted to watch the baby curled into its protective embrace, lock his eyes on the flicker of that heartbeat and never look away. He suddenly couldn’t imagine going a day without looking at this blurred image, and as the nurse spoke, smiled and took screen captures of the image before them, he wasn’t sure he ever would. 

“Here’s your baby’s head,” the nurse was saying, tracing the outline with the pointer of her mouse, “the nose, the chin. Here’s a little hand. And a foot.” 

It was almost too much to take in, too much to look at and understand that this was their baby, that they had created this life growing within Tessa. Tessa’s fingers curled around his, squeezing him once reassuringly, somehow managing to tear his eyes away from the screen and to her face. 

She was grinning, tears brimming her lashes, and opened her mouth to speak, but the nurse was already talking. 

“Are we finding out the gender today?” The nurse asked, continuing to move the pointer of the mouse in slow circles over the screen. 

“Yes,” Tessa said automatically before glancing at Scott, “Right?” 

The simple gesture, the fact that she would take his wants and desires into consideration was almost too much for him. He couldn’t speak suddenly, couldn’t find his voice through the surprise and gratitude he felt, and simply nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

The nurse was quiet for a moment as she prodded Tessa’s belly, laughing softly as the baby shifted slightly within the womb. Unconsciously, Tessa brought a hand to her belly and rubbed soothingly, her grin never faltering as her eyes traveled back to the screen. 

“Come on, baby,” Tessa encouraged the fetus, “let’s see who you are.”

As they watched the screen, the baby resituated itself within the comfort of her womb, the nurse quickly pressing a button to capture the moment in a still photograph, a satisfied sigh slipping from her as she grinned. 

“There we go,” the nurse presented the photograph on the screen, smiling directly at Tessa before shifting her attention to Scott. “Congratulations Mommy and Daddy, you have a daughter.”

The breath left him at once, and he heard Tessa gasp and began to cry softly beside him. It was a breathless gasp, almost a laugh, and she cupped her hands over her mouth. Scott’s lips parted, jaw falling open as he fought the tears that had sprung to his own eyes, wiping at them with the back of his head. 

“Oh my God,” he heard Tessa’s whisper, her hold on his hand tightening, “Scott, we have a little girl.”

Her words broke him, they were too much, looking at Tessa and the baby and hearing that word: we. The tears slipped down his face and he turned to her, burying his face in her shoulder, placing soft kisses against the skin of her shoulder, wanting nothing more than to look back at that image on the screen but desperate to hide his red-rimmed eyes. 

A little girl. They were having a daughter. Images raced through his mind, thoughts of the future: teaching her how to ride a bike with no training wheels, placing a bandage and a kiss on a skinned knee when she fell, watching Tessa comb and fix her hair and wondering how in the hell he’d been lucky enough for this to ever work out the way it had. 

“I know,” he replied breathlessly, knowing his tears were hot against her skin, “I know, Tess.” 

She reached around, finding his head with one hand and tangling her fingers in the dark strands of his hair. He lifted his head, moved to watch her, his heart beating impossibly fast at the look on her face. Her eyes were wide and wet, but happy. She was smiling, and it was the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. 

There was a moment of undeniable chemistry between them, and he wanted to kiss her. He almost did, and Tessa’s head dipped slightly toward his, her eyes tracing his lips. He could hear her breathing, could feel the electricity that ignited the air between them. He leaned closer to her, caught her gentle smile as he was mere inches from her face, and then- 

“Oh!” Tessa jerked away suddenly, her eyebrows furrowing in surprise and shock as she glanced toward the screen. The nurse began to laugh, a contagious giggle that caused Scott to draw his attention toward her, grinning despite the ruined moment. 

“What was that?” Tessa asked, glancing toward the screen before looking down at her belly. The nurse laughed again, rubbed the small tool over Tessa’s belly. Tessa pressed a hand to the area as well, her slender fingers rubbing small circles.

“That was your baby,” she grinned, “she kicked you. I guess she’s trying to tell you to hurry it up and kiss already.” 

Scott watched as Tessa flushed beneath the lights of the exam room, her chest suddenly dark pink. He couldn’t help but to notice the smile that curved the edges of her lips. 

They spoke about it as he drove her home, his mind replaying the image of the baby, their daughter, curled and safe within Tessa’s womb. He wanted to touch her already, to hold her and tell her that he loved her, that she was a lucky little girl for being born to such an incredible mother, but knew that the pregnancy was only halfway through, knew he would have to wait a little longer before he could feel the way her tiny fingers curled around one of his. 

He walked Tessa to her front door, guiding her with a hand on the small of her back, but stopped at the stoop. She unlocked the door and turned to him, watching him with guarded eyes. 

“Are you coming inside?” She wondered, gesturing to the open doorway. 

He paused, eyes tracing her face before he shook his head slowly. His mouth was suddenly dry, a lump in his throat. His palms were sweaty and he curled his fingers into them. 

“No,” he said slowly, “not this time. But I wanted to ask you something.”

She turned fully toward him, the easy smile that had been on her lips slowly disappearing. She blinked at him, and he knew that she must be concerned. 

“Okay. What is it?” 

“Uh,” he breathed, wiping a hand over the back of his neck. They’d played this game for over two decades. They’d had more conversations, spent more time together than he’d spent with anyone in his life. Still, the thought of standing here before her left him speechless. “Can I take you out? Like, will you go with me?” 

Tessa smiled a little, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. 

“Don’t we go out pretty often?” She wondered, “I mean, we went to breakfast this morning.” 

“Uh, yeah,” he found himself stammering and hated himself suddenly. Jesus, why was this so hard? “But I mean, it would be different this time. It wouldn’t be as friends.” 

She seemed to understand suddenly, and to her credit, attempted to hide the surprise in her eyes. She glanced away for only a moment, looking back at him a second later with a small smirk. 

“So you’re asking me out,” she clarified, “like on a date?” 

“Yes,” he breathed, thankful that somehow Tessa had found the words when he’d been unable to. 

She stood watching him for a moment and then took a step closer. There was a silence between them that mimicked the one from the appointment, and she hesitated for only a brief moment before pressing her lips to his. It was soft, intimate, so gentle. She kissed him and he heard her sigh softly as he responded, this time not allowing his tongue to slip past her lips. It was sweet, his eyes fluttering closed as her mouth lingered. Her hands found his shoulders and clutched him gently as she began to pull away, placing another soft kiss just at the corner of his lips. 

“I wanted to do that earlier,” she breathed, a hand now gently rubbing at her belly, “but somebody got impatient.” 

He felt himself laugh as she met his eyes. 

“I’ll go on a date with you, Scott Moir. And I promise,” she said gently, just before she stepped into the house, her hand resting on the doorframe, “I won’t regret _that_ kiss.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly the longest (and most important) chapter so far! I know this sounds like an ending, but believe me, it's only beginning :) I appreciate your patience... I had to travel for work and it took me a while to regulate myself again. 
> 
> And also thank you to MyCatCanWrite for your sweet shout-out... it's so appreciated!
> 
> And also, this chapter is a little bit NSFW :)

Scott sent her a text message the following day, short and sweet: _I’ll pick you up at 11. Wear something comfortable._

Tessa decided on a pair of black workout pants and t-shirt, shrugging into a zip-up windbreaker and tying on her Adidas sneakers. She pulled her dark hair into a high pony-tail and peered out the window as she eyed the clock. The sky was overcast and she wondered if it might rain. She thought about Scott, thought about how this day might change their relationship, if things would be awkward between them. What if this didn’t work out? What if they went on this date, spent the evening as more than friends, and decided it wasn’t right? 

As his car pulled into the driveway, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She stepped away from the window and greeted him at the door, pulling it open and stepping outside before he even had a chance to knock. She grinned at him, an easy smile slipping over his face as he saw her. 

“Hey,” he leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. He lingered for just a moment, his lips brushing her soft skin, his fingertips pressed her against her back. His eyes scanned her. “You look great.” 

“Oh, thanks,” she grinned breathlessly, her hands instinctively rounding against her belly. “I wasn’t sure how comfortable you meant.” 

“No, you look perfect,” he shook his head, his hand coming up to press gently against her belly. “How are you feeling today?” 

“I feel good,” she nodded, grinned. “I slept okay, which kind of surprises me because I couldn’t stop thinking about the baby.” _Our baby. Our little girl._

“Yeah, I get it,” he chuckled softly, guiding her down the walkway toward his car. “I couldn’t stop seeing her little shape, hearing her heartbeat.” He was quiet as he opened the passenger door for her, watched as she slid into the seat. “It just doesn’t even feel real.” 

“It’s real,” she assured him, pulling on her seatbelt. “She’s real.” 

He watched her briefly, his eyes displaying a mixture of disbelief and pride. He crossed the car and slid into the driver’s seat, smiling over at her. 

“Have you felt her move again?” He wondered, his fingers curling gently against the steering wheel despite his desire to reach out and touch her swollen belly again. 

“Just a little early this morning,” she shrugged, and at the way he suddenly appeared disappointed, added, “I’ll let you feel when it happens, I promise.” 

His lips turned into a soft, easy smile as he started the car and began to back out of the driveway. 

“So,” Tessa let the word slip from her lips with an easy grin, “where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise,” he looked toward her, “and I guarantee you’ll like it.” 

She sighed softly, fighting the smile that curled the edges of her lips. 

They drove for a while, speaking about the baby and about the road trips they’d taken when they were teenagers, across the US and Canadian borders, listening to Scott’s seemingly endless collection of CDs as they careened down the highways. Tessa laughed, tossing her head back at his stupid jokes and wondering why it had taken her so long to feel okay with this, with the idea of Scott being more than a friend, more than a business partner. It had taken the sound of the baby’s heartbeat, the feeling of the baby dancing within her womb to help her understand that Scott was all of those things, and he was so much more. 

Tessa was so focused on him, so caught up in his words and his smile that she didn’t realize they’d arrived at their destination until after he’d pulled into the parking lot of Komoka Provincial Park, and she turned to him with a grin. 

“What are we doing here?” She wondered. 

He navigated into a parking spot and turned the car off, watching her. 

“A hike and a picnic,” he shrugged, and Tessa could see the flush in his cheeks. “I know you haven’t been able to get as much exercise as you’re used to, and we go out for meals all the time. I thought it might be... I don’t know… I mean if you don’t want to, we can…” he began to stammer, suddenly unsure of himself. Tessa reached out, placed a gentle hand on his forearm. 

“No, I want to,” she nodded, “I’m thrilled, actually. This was so thoughtful of you. But I didn’t realize I was supposed to bring lunch.” 

The sheepish smile appeared again. 

“I packed a lunch for us,” he said softly.

Tessa’s lips curled into a smile and she looked toward him as she glanced toward the entrance of the walking trail. 

“This isn’t just a way to tell me I need to watch my weight, is it?” The words tumbled from her mouth in a half-joke, glancing down at the swell of her belly. She felt him still beside her suddenly and looked up to his face, his eyebrows furrowed with concern, his face serious. 

“What? Tess, no, of course not. Why would you say that?” 

She felt foolish suddenly, felt the burn in her cheeks and chest. Of course he wouldn’t do that; that was backwards and insensitive. He wouldn’t ever imply she needed to lose weight, despite the fact that her clothes were growing tighter and she was no longer a size zero. She was healthy, she knew, even pregnant, but the doubt gnawed at the back of her mind and she attempted to shrug it off. 

“I’m kidding,” she forced a smile at him, “Come on, let’s go.”

They left the car in the parking lot, Scott slipping a backpack onto his shoulders and waiting until they had started up a trail through the forest before he dared to slip his fingers into Tessa’s. She caught her breath, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and curled her fingers within his. It was different somehow; they’d held hands too many times to count, had found solace in the warmth of each other’s grasp, but not like this. It had always been comforting, had always been a safe place to find solace, but her heart had never raced in this way, palms sweaty with nerves. 

As they walked alongside each other on the trail, she caught herself watching him from the corner of her eye, and often staring at him. He was so animated as he spoke, using his hands as he told stories that made her laugh, described trees and flowers and bugs and Tessa could think only of what it might be like once the baby arrived. Would they walk this same trail with her, in a sling on Tessa’s chest, Scott describing these same scenes to their daughter? Would they hold her hand as she toddled along the path, watching with joy as she chased after butterflies and scooping her up before she stumbled over a vine and crashed to the ground? And if she did fall, scraped off the first layer of her delicate skin, would Scott coo to her as he wiped away her tears, securing a bandage over the surface wound, kiss her head? The thought made Tessa feel breathless with affection. 

They walked for nearly an hour, their pace casual but determined, Scott often looking towards her, sometimes checking in with a subtle eyebrow raise, other times asking the question outright, “Are you okay to continue?” She always nodded, smiled, rubbed a hand almost unconsciously over the slight swell of her belly. 

Once they reached the top of a clearing, he led her to a picnic table, helped her lower herself onto the bench and then sat across from her. She watched him, smiling, as he placed the backpack on the table and unzipped it. 

“Turkey with Swiss on wheat,” he indicated as he placed the sandwich bag before her, placing an apple and a pack of crackers beside it. “Water, a pickle, and, of course, dessert.” He pulled a small chocolate bar from the backpack and Tessa gasped, grabbing for it playfully, her fingers already unwrapping the foil. She brought it to her lips and bit into it, sighing in pleasure as Scott watched her with furrowed brows. 

“That was dessert,” he defended. Tessa chewed, swallowed, and took another small bite, watching him with a smile. When the chocolate bar had been consumed, she made a show of licking her fingers clean. 

“I’m pregnant,” she shrugged, “I’m eating chocolate for two, remember?” 

He sighed, rolled his eyes playfully at her before reaching into the bag and pulling out another small chocolate bar. 

“I guess that means you want this one too, then, eh?” 

She grinned, reached out to take the candy from his palm and curled her fingers around it. He closed his fingers slowly around hers, holding her hand for a long moment as they looked at one another. He released her and she reluctantly moved her hand away, placing the candy on the table. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” she said finally, quietly, as she began to unwrap her sandwich. 

He chewed on his lower lip, shrugged. 

“I’ve been waiting twenty years for this date,” he finally said, looking toward her. “I should have done a lot more, but everything pales in comparison after yesterday.” 

She felt her cheeks flushing, looked down at the bump on her belly, then back up at him. 

“I was thinking about your family,” Tessa acknowledged after taking a bite of her sandwich and chewing thoughtfully. “I’m sorry for not asking earlier, but what do they think about this whole thing?” 

He watched her with dark eyes, smiling. 

“She’s excited. She’s thrilled. Confused. A little worried. I think she’s feeling every emotion I am, maybe more. It’s still kind of hard for her to believe…” he hesitated, met her eyes, “It’s kind of hard for me to believe, too, I guess, if I’m being honest.” 

Tessa broke apart a cracker, placing a corner into her mouth, chewing and swallowing. 

“Why’s that?” 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“It’s just something that I’ve thought about for a while. I mean… a _while_ while. Like, even before you mentioned it, it’s something I thought about at night, all those years we skated together. What it might be like.” 

“What _what_ might be like?” She clarified, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. 

He looked hesitant, almost as if he didn’t want to respond, but he dipped his head a little, his eyes falling to the wooden picnic table. 

“Having a family with you,” he admitted softly. 

She felt breathless, wasn’t sure what to say. She’d seen the affection in his eyes throughout the years, had of course noticed the way his hands had lingered on her body, but she’d assumed all of that had been hormones, pure lust and desire that was inevitable based on their relationship. Never before had she truly considered the idea that Scott had thought about her in more ways than that, had thought about being serious with her, settling down with her. The thought made her stomach come alive with butterflies and there was a moment where she considered the possibility that it was the baby fluttering within her, but no, it was that moment of flirtation and excitement that made her feel beautifully nervous. 

They ate and laughed, casual conversation flowing between them just as it always had. Scott smiled and watched her, his eyes impossibly full of affection that Tessa could feel as he spoke. She finished her sandwich and crunched her pickle, enjoying the sour taste as she chewed and swallowed. She watched enviously as he ate his own, wishing she’d thought to ask him for it beforehand and regretting that she hadn’t. 

She eyed the second chocolate bar before her, her fingers gently pushing the candy away. He caught the slight movement of her hand and quirked his eyebrow at her. 

“Not going to eat it?” He asked, watching her. 

“No,” she shook her head, letting a sigh slip from between her lips. “I really shouldn’t.” 

His lips twitched at her, somewhere between a frown and a smile. 

“You’ve never refused chocolate before.” 

Tessa forced a tiny smile at him. 

“I’ve never been this big before.” The words slipped out before she had a chance to consider them, lips parting with the surprise of her own feelings. She hadn’t meant to reveal these hidden sentiments to him, knew he spent enough time worrying about her without thinking of the hit to her self-confidence, concerned with the way she viewed her growing body. 

“Tess,” she heard her name escape his lips, sighing. “You’re not big… you’re pregnant.” 

“I know,” she grinned up at him, “I’m fine. It was a joke.” 

It wasn’t. At least not really. 

Still, the corners of his lips twitched into a frown. 

“Are you okay? You’re not feeling self-conscious or anything?” 

She stared at him for a long moment, kept his eyes until she glanced away out of shame. 

“No,” she responded softly, her voice quiet. “No, of course not.” 

He wouldn’t understand. It wasn’t the same for him, even as a professional athlete. With men, it was different, and he’d had his share of bouncing back and forth from his ideal weight. In their past, he’d get lost in one passion or another, one woman or another, and find himself struggling to get back into shape. He’d struggled with alcohol several times, had gained that superficial weight from lack of exercise, but he’d always regained his shape. Even when his abdomen had lost its tone, even when others had joked about the extra weight he’d put on, he’d taken it good-naturedly and had hit the gym and ice. He’d gotten back into shape, and it had been okay. 

Selfishly, Tessa couldn’t imagine he’d experienced what she currently felt. He’d never watched his waistline go, knowing this was only the beginning of the transformation, knowing that by the end of this journey her belly would be large and round and no matter how badly she wanted this, she wasn’t prepared for it. 

She’d struggled with the idea at first, convinced herself that once the baby began to move, it would feel more real. It wouldn’t be as difficult, watching the taut skin stretch over the bump as she grew because she knew the importance of it. And now, even though she felt nothing but love and excitement for the baby as she traced her fingers over the firm bump, she missed the feel of her sharp abdominal muscles. 

Scott looked at her now as if he didn’t believe her, and she wondered if he was right not to. 

“You’re beautiful, T,” he told her, his words sincere, and she caught his eyes. “You know that.” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, “Thank you.”

It rained on their walk back to the car. They made it halfway before fat raindrops began to fall, wetting their hair and shoulders, and walked for ten more minutes before the sky opened up completely. Scott swore, holding the backpack over his head in an attempt to guard himself from the downpour and Tessa giggled, pulling her hood over her dark hair.  
She caught his eye as they began to sprint toward the car, his lips turning up and into a smile as they moved. By the time they reached his car, both of them were laughing, rain and tears streaking their faces. 

They slid into the car, dripping wet, Scott turning the heat on despite the humid temperature outside and grinning crookedly at Tessa. Rain dripped from his dark hair, his grey t-shirt dark with wetness. She studied him, the twinkle in his eye, the sharp curves of his jaw, and wondered how she had managed to resist him for all these years. 

They drove to her home in comfortable silence, his hand finding hers and curling around her fingers in the same comforting way they’d come together on the trail. She traced the back of his hand with her thumb. The rain against the windows and the rhythmic beat of the windshield wipers lulled her into a sense of comfort and she leaned against the seatback, her eyes fluttering closed. 

When she awoke, Scott was pulling into her driveway. The rain had lightened, but the sky grew darker as the sun sank into the horizon. He looked toward her, smiling gently. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door and he turned off the car, following her to the front door of her home. They stood uncertainly for a moment in the gentle drizzle, Scott’s eyes searching her face. 

“You should get inside,” he encouraged her, “I don’t want you to get sick.” 

She nodded, fumbled for her key and inserted it into the lock, turning it and pushing the door open. He paused on the doorstep and she turned back to him. 

“Are you coming inside this time?” She asked, hearing the hope in her own voice. He hesitated only briefly. 

“Do you want me to?” 

Her tongue darted to wet her lips. He’d been inside so many times before, and this wouldn’t be any different. Yet it felt that way. 

She couldn’t say the words, couldn’t find them within herself even after the day they’d spent together, and stepped into her home, glancing back at him as she held the door wider for his entrance. He met her eyes and then stepped inside. 

She watched as he removed his shoes and wet socks. She hurried to the bathroom and retrieved a towel, moved to her bedroom and pulled an oversized t-shirt from her drawer. She returned to the living room, smiling despite herself at Scott standing immobile in the foyer, his dark hair wet with rain. 

“Thanks,” he smiled at her as he took the towel and dried his hair, shrugged out of his wet shirt and into the dry one, Tessa meaning to avert her eyes as he did so, suddenly finding that she couldn’t look away. His body was different than it had been when they’d skated together; softer in some places, harder in others. She suddenly longed to reach out and brush her fingers over his chest, the skin smooth and nearly hairless. 

She stopped herself, fingers curling into fists at her side, swallowing down the lust that bubbled in her chest. 

“I should shower,” Tessa gestured to her own wet clothing, her damp hair. “Do you mind?” 

He pulled the shirt over his head, allowing it to settle on his frame. 

“No, of course not. I’ll wait for you.” 

The idea of him not waiting on her couch flashed in her mind; the thought of him following her into the shower and watching her with dark eyes as her clothes slid to the ground, holding her hands above her head as he took her against the shower wall, their bodies pressed together. 

“T?” He asked, his eyebrows going up in concern. She cleared her throat, stammered for a moment. 

“Okay… okay, yeah. I’ll be quick.” She shot him a brief smile before turning, making her way upstairs and into her ensuite. She discarded her clothes and stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to stream over her. She stood for a long time beneath the water, enjoying the way it felt against her skin. Her skin was pink from the temperature of the water, her eyes falling upon the soft bump of her abdomen. She traced it protectively with her fingers, closing her eyes at the feel of the life growing within her. 

After washing her hair and body, she stepped onto the bathroom mat, wrapping herself in a white, fluffy towel and using it to dry her hair. She padded naked into her bedroom, pulled a pair of underwear from her drawer before seeking a t-shirt and shorts. She made her way back into the bathroom, ran a brush through her dark hair and left it hanging over her shoulders, her eyes finding her reflection in the mirror. Without realizing it, she had selected the maternity shirt Scott had bought her, the eating chocolate for two shirt, the joke she had referenced earlier at lunch when she’d scarfed down the candy bar before hesitating to eat the second. She considered changing, slipping into something that downplayed the roundness of her belly rather than something that accentuated it, but forced herself out of the bathroom and back downstairs to find Scott sitting on the couch. 

She stopped, laughed at the sight of him. He sat with a magazine opened in his lap, his eyes focused on an article, and she recognized it as the parenting magazine she’d been reading this morning. At her gentle laughter, he looked up, words already on his lips. 

“Did you know that the best way-” He stopped at the sight of her, his lips opening and closing like a fish out of water. She approached him slowly, bare feet padding quietly on the carpet. 

“What?” She asked, looking down at herself, checking her form. “What’s wrong?” 

“Uh,” he breathed after a moment, finding his voice. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” 

She wasn’t sure what to believe, couldn’t understand why he was looking at her that way, like he was seeing her for the first time. 

“You remember this shirt?” She asked playfully, tugging at its hem. His eyes tracked her movements. 

“Yeah,” he smiled, “yeah, of course I remember it. It looks incredible on you.” 

He must have seen the twitch of the frown on her face because his eyebrows furrowed slightly. 

“You look beautiful, Tess,” he said then, and she met his eyes.

He wasn’t lying. She could see the truth in his eyes, could hear the sincerity in his voice, but she somehow couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t imagine how he could look at her now, her belly slightly round with their baby, and see what he saw. She couldn’t imagine how he would find her beautiful now despite the fact that he’d seen her in her top form so many times. 

She sank onto the couch beside him, suddenly feeling tired, feeling heavy. His hands moved to brush her arm, brush over her belly. She raised her eyes to him. 

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated. Tessa watched him with wide green eyes, feeling the emotion well in them. Tears burned her vision and she wanted to turn her head away, wanted to bury her face in his shoulder and cry for the way she’d lost herself despite this being what she’d wanted. She wanted to feel sorry for herself, but there was no time. 

Scott’s hands moved her gently onto his lap and she felt herself encouraging the motion, sliding onto his legs and straddling him gently. She held herself, afraid to let her full weight rest of him, but his hands were at her hips and it was all she could do to not allow herself to sink onto him. 

“Tessa,” he said her name seriously, hands moving to stroke her belly, cupping her protectively. She raised her eyes to his and felt a tear escape before she’d even had a chance to stop it. He made a quiet shushing noise, one hand moving to wipe the tear away with a thumb. “Don’t cry, baby.” 

Emotion swelled within her, and she was suddenly overcome by a mixture of pity and desire. She didn’t like the way she felt, her belly bulging with life. She felt large and out of shape, despite the fact that in her logical mind, she knew she was healthy. Seeing herself this way was just so jarring. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and his hands were on her, tracing the roundness of her belly. 

“Don’t apologize,” he encouraged her, and then he leaned up, pressed a kiss against her shoulder. The desire in her belly burst at that moment, and when he pulled away and Tessa met his eyes, both of them knew. 

Hesitantly at first, and then with increasing confidence, she began to tug at the shorts he wore. He lifted his hips, allowing her to slip them down, feeling breathless at the sight of him in just his boxers. She couldn’t hear his breathing and when her hand found the form of him through his underwear, she realized it was because he’d been holding his breath. He let out a soft groan as she worked his underwear down, her hand slipping around his cock and stroking it a few times, watching as it grew in her hand. 

She was dizzy with lust suddenly, overwhelmed with the desire to shimmy out of her shorts and sink onto him, feel him stretch her and fill her in ways he never had. But as she stroked him, watching the way his eyes fluttered close at her touch, she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Seeing him like this, vulnerable beneath her touch, was beautiful and incredible and she couldn’t think of any other time she’d felt so completely entranced by him. 

She began to circle her thumb over the head of his erection, grasping him securely and enjoying the feel of him in her hand. His hips bucked into her hand, wetness trickling from the slit at the tip of his penis and she wanted to dip her head, wanted to taste him, but his eyes opened and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

“I won’t last,” he said gently, and she understood. She nodded, allowing him to tug at the waistband of her shorts, keeping his eyes as he slipped them and her panties down her long legs, tossing them onto the floor. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her, bare and open to him. She tugged at the hem of her shirt, securing it over her form, but lifted her hips and reached between them, lining him up to her entrance. 

They shared a moment of eye contact, and with a slight nod, she allowed herself to sink onto him. She caught her breath, moving slowly as he slid into her. It wasn’t too much, wasn’t too little. It was just enough. It was exactly what she’d thought he’d feel like for all of those years when their dances had been a little too risqué, when he’d pressed against her through their costumes and she’d felt his length. It was as if he’d been made for her. 

Her fingers found his shoulders, nails curling against his skin. She breathed heavily, steadying herself as she began to rise and fall on him. He found her hips, guided her, helped her raise and lower herself onto his lap. 

“Scott,” she whispered his name, lost in this moment, forgetting suddenly that she’d spent the majority of the day feeling bad about the way her stomach curved beneath her shirt, the fact that stretch marks had already begun to mar her skin. “You feel so good.”

He grunted, panted and pressed another kiss against her shoulder. 

“You fit me perfectly,” he whispered, and then his hands found the bottom of her shirt. His fingers curled around the edge of the hem and Tessa stopped moving, her hands finding and covering his own. 

“No,” she whispered, tugging the shirt down. She didn’t want him to lift it, didn’t want him to see her like this. She wanted him to think of her as she’d been in their skating days, wanted him to imagine her tight body, sharp hipbones, abdomen muscles rippling. She was too afraid of what he would think now, seeing her belly swollen. 

“Tessa,” he said her name softly, so quietly that she barely heard it. He leaned in, caught her lips in a soft kiss, kept her gaze. “You’re perfect.”

 _I’m not_ , she wanted to say. _Not anymore, and you’ll see that if I let you take off my shirt._

His eyes were dark, full of something that so closely resembled love she wasn’t sure she could even tell the difference. She hesitated for a long moment, and then slowly, almost reluctantly, her fingers loosened on his. To his credit, he didn’t attempt to push her shirt up until she nodded, giving him permission. 

His eyes traveled down to her belly, first pushing the shirt up past her abdomen and beneath her breasts, taking her in. She stilled her movements, watching his face as he studied her body. Despite the lust coiling in her abdomen and the wetness between her thighs, she considered slipping off of him, tugging her shirt down and telling him that she couldn’t do this, at least not right now. 

But his eyes met hers, his hands continuing to push the shirt over her breasts until he was tugging it off of her, exposing her body fully to him. 

He let out a breath at the sight of her, and despite the way his eyes watched her, she felt another tear slip down her cheek. He brushed it away immediately, kissed the wet trail it left, and then moved his hands to her belly. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” his voice was barely above a whisper, fingers brushing her skin as she began to move atop him once more. “So fucking gorgeous, T.” 

He pressed his lips to her shoulder, peppering kisses over the freckles on her skin. She could feel the flush of her arousal, the way her skin burned with a mixture of shame and pride and his lips caressed every inch of it. 

She wasn’t sure when it happened, when that passion began to uncoil within her belly, but she felt her muscles tighten and began to tremble, his hands steadying her, holding her through her orgasm, as he thrust into her over and over again, filling her, stretching her, making her feel so fucking good and so beautiful. 

Before he came, before she felt the way he exploded within her, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to her ear as she shuddered and came around him, his voice so soft yet so incredibly loud. 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

And then he came with a grunt, his hips flush against hers. She panted, collapsed against him, clutched him as he stuttered his hips against hers in the throes of his climax.  
His words echoed in her mind as he attempted to catch his breath, his hands still pressing her against him. Tessa’s thighs trembled but she made no effort to move from his lap, savoring the feel of him within her. 

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, kissed the perspiration from his skin. 

And when they’d found their breath, Scott’s hand exploring the swell of Tessa’s belly without the hindrance of her clothing, she caught his eyes once more. 

“I’m going to make you so happy,” he brushed his lips across her skin, murmured the words into her pale flesh.  
Tessa smirked, closing her eyes at the feel of his hands upon her skin, the way his embrace made her feel so safe, so full in every way. 

“You already have,” she returned his sentiment, settling against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on instagram @tessafreakingvirtue for more VM goodness


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a quick thank you to everyone who reached out to me on instagram and let me know that they're reading my stuff. You have no idea what it means to know that people care about what you're writing. I cannot express my gratitude enough and I hope you know how much I appreciate it. 
> 
> And to virtuevirtuee, always... thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you.

Scott’s hands were steady, fingers gripping the heavy wooden slats as he attempted to fit the drill into the hole on the side of the crib. He maneuvered his fingers between the two sturdy slats and pressed the drill bit into the tiny hole, watching as it spun and tightened the screw into place. 

He’d been at work on the crib for over an hour, had managed to assemble most of it before he realized that he’d put one piece on backwards and then had been forced to redo the majority of what he had accomplished. Tessa had been working in her office, had passed by the nursery a few times, peering in to watch him quietly. He forced himself to remain focused, not to look up at her and become distracted by her beauty, but he suddenly felt her presence in the doorway, saw her shape leaning against the wooden frame of the room and glanced up. 

She was grinning at him, gorgeous. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, wisps of dark strands falling around her face. She wore denim overalls, a white shirt underneath, and he saw the way they gaped with the stretch of her belly. Her shirt rode up just a little and he could see the flash of pale flesh beneath the fabric. She was holding a pickle in one hand, chewing a bite. She looked so beautiful that it took his breath away, caused him to forget that he was holding a tool in one hand and the heavy slat of a wooden crib in the other and nearly dropped them both. 

His cell phone, plugged into the wall, chimed beside him. His eyes glanced toward the device, a text message notification appearing. He placed the drill carefully on the floor, reached out with one hand to clear the screen.

When he looked back up at her, he caught her eyes studying the way his fingers moved on the screen. She didn’t ask, but her gaze followed his hand.

“How are you doing in here?” She bent one knee casually, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Since her belly had started to grow, she’d been experiencing some muscle pain in her shins, some aching in her lower back. The doctor had assured her it was normal, had encouraged her to rest and eat protein, take a warm bath or use a heating pad. And despite the fact that he knew she had to be in pain, she looked radiant. 

“I’m fine,” he assured her, shooting her a grin before placing his phone back onto the floor beside him, “all good here.” He studied her for a moment. “Is that a pickle?”

Tessa lifted the pickle, crunched it, chewed and then swallowed. 

“Maybe.”

“You know that’s like the most stereotypical pregnancy craving, right?” He grinned at her. “Where’s your ice cream?”

She made a face at him, made a show of sticking the remaining bite of pickle in her mouth and chewed it haughtily. 

“Who eats ice cream and pickles? Gross. You know,” she said after a moment, watching him with a grin, “you don’t have to do this. There are plenty of people who could build the crib. And the changing table. And the dresser. We could even hire someone.”

“I want to,” he insisted, meeting her eyes and shaking his head, “it’s important to me that I do this for our baby.”

Tessa sighed, held up her hands defensively. 

“Okay, okay. But you know it has to be sturdy enough for our baby to actually sleep in, right?” She teased him. He narrowed his eyes at her playfully. 

“Leave me alone.” 

She laughed, stepping out of the doorway and leaving him to his work. He took another fifteen minutes to build the rest of the frame before standing to admire his work. It felt good, to look at the bed their baby would sleep in and know that he’d done it himself, that he’d been able to provide this safe space that their child would require after leaving the safety of Tessa’s womb. 

He made his way out of the nursery and down the hallway, finding his way to the kitchen. Tessa was there, standing with her back to him, her hands working at something. He stood, watching her for a moment before speaking. 

“Tess, what is that?” 

She turned suddenly, unexpectedly, another pickle in one hand, an open jar of peanut butter in the other. The pickle was half inside the jar, its end poking out. There was a smear of peanut butter just beside her upper lip. She was chewing, watching him. 

“Nothing,” she said between crunches. The sight of her standing there, belly protruding, the quiet defiance in her eyes was almost enough for him to fall onto his knees, beg her to spend the rest of her life with him so he could see her in these moments of adorable vulnerability.

“Are you eating peanut butter and pickles?” His tone was playful, accusing. 

“Um,” she eyed the jar, lifted the pickle, chewed, and swallowed. “Maybe.”

He laughed, couldn’t help it, the guilt in her eyes made him think of when they’d been kids and she’d tried to sneak gum onto the ice. She’d always been caught, always been forced to trudge off the ice and spit it out, but it had never stopped her from trying again next time. 

“The crib is finished,” he crossed the room, used his thumb to wipe the peanut butter from her face and then slid the digit into his mouth, cleaning it with his tongue. She winced, smiled at him. 

“Cravings,” she explained dumbly. He nodded. 

“Yeah, T, I know. Cravings.” 

He took her hand and led her upstairs, stepping aside as she entered the room.

“Oh, Scott,” and the way she said his name left him feeling incredibly proud. “It looks so nice!” 

She entered the room and crossed to the crib, running her fingers over the smooth wood, admiring it. She studied it for another long moment before turning to him, slipping her arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“Thank you. You did a great job.” 

He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her as close as her swollen belly would allow. His fingers traced her hips, catching her lips again and pulling back only when she sighed softly. Her breath smelled like the combination of her snack and if it had been anyone but Tessa, he may have pulled away, but somehow on her, it was delicious.

His phone chimed again softly on the floor beside him. He glanced toward it momentarily, his fingers still resting on her hips. He leaned in, brushing his lips over the line of her jaw, leaving feather-light kisses on her fair skin.

“You’re popular today,” she said, her voice soft, teasing. He sighed softly.

“I’m here with you,” he shrugged, “it doesn’t matter who else wants my attention.” 

His hands found her belly, round and firm. He traced his fingers over it through the overalls, his eyes lowering to study the bump. He could feel Tessa’s eyes on him, her fingers slipping down her belly to cover his hands. 

“Who is it?” She wondered. Her voice was slow, cautious. She’d eyed him earlier when he’d cleared the message from his screen and her eyes moved to the phone now, a curious smile playing on her lips. 

“My girlfriend,” he grinned, and she responded with a swift, playful slap to his arm. He laughed, leaning in to kiss her and she dodged out of his grasp, pouting. “I’m kidding, T.” 

She gave him a playful smirk, narrowing her eyes at him. 

“You better be.” 

She allowed his lips to brush her skin before placing her hand against his chest.

“It’s my assistant coach,” he replied after a moment. “She knows I’m busy with you, Tess. It’s not anything she can’t handle on her own.” 

“She?” Tessa asked, her voice quiet, her eyes raised to his. He narrowed his gaze to her, smirking. 

“Are you jealous?” 

“No,” she replied quickly, too quickly. Her lower lip worried between her teeth. “I’m not.” 

He eyed her, his hand tracing her back. 

“Well you shouldn’t be. I only have eyes for you, Tessa Jane.” 

She smiled, he saw the slight blush in her cheeks. His words eased her concern momentarily, but then she frowned. 

“Is it important?” 

He shrugged. 

“Maybe. But it’s nothing I can’t handle later.”

“But it’s your job,” she insisted, her voice quiet. “Do you need to be there?” 

“No,” he vowed quickly, “I need to be here with you. You’re more important than any coaching position.” 

Tessa’s face softened, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” he spoke softly, his hands still positioned on the soft curve of her belly. “And I’m also positive that you need to get off your feet for a while.” 

She smiled then, delicate skin flushing. 

“Let me run you a bath,” he whispered the words against her ear. She watched him, considered his words. 

“Only if you join me,” she smirked. 

He studied the dark green of her eyes, took her hand in his. He led her from the nursery and down the hallway, pushing the washroom door open and guiding her in. He left her standing by the doorway as he stooped, turning on the water and stepping back, turning to look at Tessa. She was already stripping, unbuttoning the overalls and allowing them to slide to the floor. Her belly protruded from under the white t-shirt, her underwear riding low on her hips, exposing the soft skin of her abdomen. 

Scott crossed to her, curling his fingers beneath the hem of the t-shirt and lifting it, revealing her swollen belly and breasts. Her hands raised, as if to cover herself, but he caught them gently in one of his own and brought her fingers to his mouth, kissing each digit before brushing his fingertips over her jaw. 

Wordlessly, she shrugged out of her underwear and they slid down her legs, pooling onto the floor. He took her hand and she stepped away from the clothes, padding across the tile floor as she made her way to the Jacuzzi tub. He helped her step into the warm water and then assisted her as she lowered her body into the tub fully. He was only a moment behind her and tugged off his own shirt, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and kicked them off, stepped out of his boxers. 

She leaned forward as he stepped into the water, allowing him to slide in behind her. Her body was softer now, but the muscles in her back were still firm, tense. He slid his legs around her, her back pressed to his chest as she situated herself. 

The water was warm as it pooled around them, and Scott worried for a moment that it might be too hot for Tessa, that the temperature would be dangerous for their unborn baby, but as he expressed the fear to her, she shook her head, dismissing his concern. She took his hand, guided it to her belly, curled his fingers around the bump. 

“She’s okay,” she reassured him, “she’s perfect.” 

After the water filled the tub and Scott turned to shut off the water, Tessa rested against him. The faucet dripped, the faint sound echoing in the large washroom as they settled into the quiet. Scott pressed his mouth against the back of her neck, her shoulder, finding her freckles with his lips. He felt her sigh, heard her smile, and traced her belly with his thumb. 

“You know,” she spoke suddenly, her voice soft, “we haven’t even talked about names yet.”

“Names?” He said the word as if it were a foreign concept, as if he hadn’t even considered the fact that eventually the baby would need a name. He’d gotten so used to the idea of their child growing in Tessa’s womb that it had nearly failed to occur to him that at one point, she would be her own person outside of Tessa’s womb. 

“Names,” she repeated the word and then laughed. He could feel the way she shook in his arms and his heart swelled with affection for her. He pulled her closer, held her tighter. “You know she’s going to need a name, right?” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled into her skin. “She needs a name. A beautiful name.” 

It wasn’t lost on him, the significance of this moment. They’d gone from him having privileges, being allowed access to this child, to her asking for his input on her name, the most important aspect of her yet-to-be developed individuality.

“What are some names you’re considering?” He asked, his breath brushing her skin. 

“I have a few in mind,” she shrugged, her slender shoulder rising and falling beneath his lips. “Do you want me to tell you what they are?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Okay,” she sighed, “I have a list I’ve started. I’ve narrowed it down to three or four. Do you want to tell me what you like first, or choose from what I already have?” 

He smiled again. She’d already spent so much time thinking about this, planning for their baby, had likely already created a reality in her mind for her. 

“Tell me what you like,” he invited her, hands tracing gently over her belly. “Tell me who you think our baby could be.” 

“Well,” she began, her voice incredibly soft, already full of love. “One of the names on my list is Abigail. It means _giver of joy_. And then there’s Anna. Anna means _full of grace_. Hazel, which means… well, _hazel_. You know, like your eyes. Oh, and then… Evangeline. It means _good news_.”

She ticked off the list on her fingers as she spoke, hand dripping with water as she raised it from the tub. She touched the tip of each of her four fingers and then nodded, satisfied that she’d remembered the names. 

He was quiet for a moment, listening, and then spoke. 

“Evangeline,” he said the name softly, “that’s a big name for a little girl.” 

He felt Tessa sigh beneath his touch, felt her adjust herself against him. 

“She’s going to be incredible,” she spoke, her voice confident and clear. “We could call her Evie. She could be a ballerina, or an ice dancer… maybe a hockey player. Or maybe none of those things. Maybe she’d want to go to law school like Jordan, or become a chef, because God knows someone needs to know how to cook in this house.” 

“Hey,” he teased her gently, “I can cook.” 

“You’ll be at coaching sometimes,” she reminded him teasingly. “And besides, you never let me help you in the kitchen. Evie would.” 

There was something about the way she spoke the name, so familiar with it already despite the fact that she hadn’t been officially named. It sounded as if she had always been a part of their family, always little Evie, even when she hadn’t existed.

“Evangeline Virtue,” he tested the name aloud, and it fit. He pressed his lips against her ear. “You know with a name like that she’s going to end up on an Olympic podium.” 

Tessa laughed softly, sinking into his touch. 

“I don’t care,” she shook her head, fingers splayed protectively across her belly. “I don’t care if she ever wins a gold medal or gets a star on the Canadian Walk of Fame. I just want her to be happy.” 

The emotion in her voice was palpable, and Scott pressed a kiss against her shoulder. 

“I know, babe. Me too.” 

They settled into the silence of the moment, his hands still tracing her belly. He hesitated, licked his lips, slowly let his fingers slip down the bump of her abdomen, rest on her inner thigh below the water. She felt him there, sensed the pressure on her thigh and parted her legs, allowing him access. They didn’t speak as his fingers slipped between her thighs, gently tracing over her center. He parted her with his fingers, allowed his thumb to circle the tiny bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs and she sighed and turned her head into him, her chest rising and falling. 

She moaned softly, and he could already feel her relaxing beneath his touch. He stroked her with his fingers, enjoyed the feel of her, warm and already wet despite the water. Her hips responded to his touch, she shifted and sighed and her hand came down to find his wrist, her fingers curling gently around his hand. 

It occurred to him suddenly that he didn’t know what Tessa liked; they’d only been together once, a few weeks ago, and while they’d certainly had their share of make-out sessions since then, he hadn’t wanted to assume she’d wanted anything more. His hands knew her body expertly, but only on the ice, only through the confines of their clothing, and even when they’d had sex that once, he hadn’t relied on much more than the thrust of his hips to satisfy her. 

Touching her now, parting her folds and circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, he realized that he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Even if he’d known, if he’d tried the things he’d done with other women, her body might respond differently, might be more sensitive due to the life that grew within her. He felt her stiffen, heard her gasp quietly, and he nearly pulled his hand away, afraid he’d hurt her. Her fingers stilled his wrist, though, kept his hand between her thighs. He pressed another kiss to her shoulder and shifted his hand just slightly, moving from in front of her hand to behind it. Gently, he guided her hand to her own center. 

“Show me,” he encouraged her, his breath hot in her ear. “Teach me what you like.” 

It took a moment, but her fingers began to move. Slowly at first, tracing her inner lips and teasing at her entrance. She circled her clit a few times, the tip of her index finger joined shortly by her middle finger. His hand pressed against hers, feeling the movements, seeing the action in his mind. She liked to be rubbed there, flicked here. She preferred to be teased first, the tips of her fingers pressing against her entrance before dipping inside. 

When she moved her fingers back up to her clit, he kept his hand at her entrance, resuming her actions. His fingertips dipped inside of her, feeling the way she clenched around his fingers desperately. He was hesitant to go further, didn’t want to give her more than she desired, but she bucked her hips and he slid into her up to the second knuckle, two fingers sheathed. 

She gasped once more, her thighs trembling as her fingers flicked at her clit quickly. It had been only moments since he’d first slipped his hand between her thighs, he thought guiltily, but she was already clenching around him, whimpering and shuddering around him as she came. She arched her back away from his chest, her thighs clamping shut around his hand as she reached the peak of her orgasm, groaning and shaking with pleasure. 

He felt his erection between them, pressing into her back and twitching. He wanted to extend this moment, wanted to make her last longer, but the last time he’d watched her climax had been three weeks ago and she’d complained more than once since then that her pregnancy hormones had kicked her sex-drive into high-gear. He felt stupid now, looking back and recognizing those times for what they were; invitations to touch her, to make her come, but one of his biggest fears was overstepping his boundaries with her. He wanted her to feel loved, beautiful, taken care of; he didn’t ever want her to feel as if he expected anything from her. 

She sighed, settled back against his chest as her orgasm began to subside. He kept his fingers inside her for another moment, enjoying the feel of her muscles fluttering around his digits before slipping them out. They were wet, wrinkled, and she laughed, a beautiful clear sound. 

“That was so beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. He could see the flush that had risen in her shoulders and neck, the freckles that had become more prominent with the rush of blood. He wanted to kiss each of them, wanted to take the next three months of this pregnancy to become acquainted with every aspect of her body. He wanted to familiarize himself with every mark on her body, every inch of her skin he’d wondered about for the better part of two decades and had only recently come to know. 

She did her best to turn toward him, the swell of her belly making it difficult to partake in such flexibility. Her eyes raced down his chest, the tight clench of his abs, the erection that had grown as she’d clenched and shuddered around his fingers. 

Her hands moved to touch him, fingers wrapping around his cock with a confidence that both surprised and thrilled him. 

“Your turn,” she whispered darkly, her thumb already tracing over the slit in his head, causing his hips to buck within her grasp. 

“N-no,” he stopped her, placed his hand over his. “Tess, this isn’t about me. I wanted to make you feel good.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed, eyes as dark as they’d been that night three weeks ago when she’d slid onto his lap, hovered over his erection. 

“I want to make you feel good, too,” she said simply, her voice dripping with desire. Her hand dipped beneath the water, finding his balls and weighing them between her fingers, cupping and grasping and making him stutter aloud. 

“Not here,” he managed, and she looked at him again, confusion evident in her eyes. “At least let’s go to the bedroom. This isn’t comfortable for you.” 

Tessa gave him another quick jerk, released him and pushed away from him. 

“Help me out of this tub.” 

*

She padded into the bedroom in front of him, moving her hips in a way that she knew his eyes would follow. She’d wrapped herself in a white towel, dried the water droplets from her fair skin, and when she made it to her bed, she let the towel drop, glancing over her shoulder to look at Scott, a seductive smirk playing on her lips. 

His chest was still wet, tiny beads of water clinging to his skin, and she reached for him. He made his way to her, allowed her to take his hand, and she led him to the bed, watched as the back of his knees hit the mattress before he was pushing himself up and against the headboard. 

Her eyes drank him in, the way his hair curled around the back of his neck, the way his chest rose and fell with the breaths he took. His hipbones were sharp, jutted out at his sides, and his erection was firm and lengthy. She moved toward him, curling her feet beneath her, once again letting her fingers find him. 

He took a breath as she wrapped her hand around his cock, began to tug him in slow, concentrated strokes. She kept her eyes on him as his eyes closed, as his hips rocked in her hand, twisting her wrist and causing him to buck up into her touch. 

He was enjoying it, she knew. He was laying back, allowing her to stroke him from head to base and the way his hips jerked told her that she was doing something right, but he’d been unsteady with his hands in the tub and he’d invited her to show him, to help him learn the nuances of her body, and she wanted to extend the same invitation to him. 

“Scott,” she said his name, and his eyes fluttered open. They were dark with lust, pupils huge and black. “I want to learn how to make you feel good.” 

“You already know,” he said, his voice breathless, but his hand was already slipping down his body and between his legs, wrapping around the hand with which she held his cock. He began to guide her, encouraging her when to move and squeezing or releasing her fingers to mimic the tension of her inner walls. 

She watched him expand beneath their hands, somehow growing in length and girth as she they worked in tandem to bring him release. His breath came in short gasps as she followed his lead, cupping his balls with her other hand and rolling them in her palm. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around hers found its way onto her bed, tugging at the duvet and digging his fingers into the comforter. 

She watched the way his stomach muscles tensed with the effort of his pleasure, the way his cock jerked in her hand. He began to move his fist quicker, his hand flying over his erection as pre-come leaked from the slit in his head, trickled down the sides of his erection. His hand was still guiding hers, but she used the other to make a tunnel around the head of his penis, tightened her grasp to allow him to thrust into the hollow space of her fingers. 

“Come on, Scott,” she encouraged him, and he jerked once, thrust up into the tunnel of her hand, and then he was coming. His come spurted into her hand, between her fingers, and she closed her fingers to catch the semen. He groaned, his toes curling, heels digging into the bed as he came into her hand. She watched, holding her breath as his come dribbled from her fingers and onto her wrist. She watched as it sat in pearly rivulets on her skin, and he was still shuddering, softening beneath her touch, when she pulled her hand from him and licked the droplets from her skin. 

“Fuck, Tessa,” he hissed as he watched her, and despite the fact that he was still softening, she saw his cock twitch. 

It had been a spur of the moment decision, the desire to taste him so absolutely undeniable, and she let the flavor sit on her tongue, allowed it to fill her senses and suddenly wanted to dip her head, to clean his softening cock with the flat part of her tongue and feel him buck into her mouth. 

“Hang on,” his voice was low, breathy, “let me clean up.”

Before she could move to do what she wanted, he was already pushing himself off the bed, moving back into the bathroom. She heard the sink turn on, listened as he cleaned himself up, and emerged from the bathroom wearing his boxers and holding his t-shirt. He moved to her drawer, pulling out a pair of underwear and a t-shirt, but by the time he’d turned around, she’d already pulled on the shirt he’d been wearing, a Toronto Blue-Jays shirt that smelled like him. 

He saw her, grinned, tilted his head at her. 

“You’re gonna steal my shirt?” He asked. She glanced down at the way it stretched tightly across her belly, the image of the bird slightly distorted over the swell of her bump. 

“I’m gonna steal your shirt,” she grinned, already slipping into the panties he’d pulled from her drawer. She slid back against the headboard, patting the bed beside her and he joined her, slipping onto his side behind her and curling his hands protectively around her stomach. 

They rested that way for a while, listening to the other’s soft breath, and Tessa tried to focus on all of the wonderful things that had happened today: the crib, the tub, the baby’s name. She tried to keep in her mind the way his face had looked when he’d come into her hand, the way his voice had broken as he’d cried out. 

And yet, the only thing she could focus on was those text messages on Scott’s phone. 

“I feel guilty,” she breathed finally. He was quiet for a moment and she wondered if he’d fallen asleep behind her. When he spoke, however, his voice was clear. 

“About what?” 

“Those texts,” she forced herself to answer him. “About you being here when you need to be there. You have a responsibility to your students.”

“I have a responsibility to you,” he said almost immediately. “You’re more important.”

“I’m not asking what’s more important,” she said the words slowly, purposefully. She knew how Scott felt about her. She knew that, if made to choose, he’d always choose her and the baby. There was no question in her mind that if she asked him to give it up and stay with her full-time, he would. “All I’m saying is that you love coaching. It’s not something you should just stop doing.” 

He was quiet, and she knew he would stay that way. He wouldn’t deny it, wouldn’t lie to her face and tell her that it wasn’t something he was passionate about. She’d been lucky enough to see him work with students before, had seen the way his eyes lit up when he talked to them, the grin that spread over his face when one of them excitedly showed off a skill he’d taught them. 

She turned, putting one hand on her belly as she moved to face him. When she settled beside him once more, their faces close together, his eyes were dark and serious. 

“I know you want to be here,” she nodded, touched his face. “I know how important it is to you that you’re here to support me throughout the pregnancy, but really, all we’re doing right now is playing a waiting game.”

“But the nursery-” he attempted to protest. She placed a finger on his lips. 

“The nursery will be ready,” she assured him. “We have three months. I’ll hire someone to paint. My brothers can build the rest of the furniture.” 

At his incredulity, she continued. 

“As long as the rest of my pregnancy is healthy, I’ll have one appointment a month until I’m thirty-six weeks. You can’t give up coaching to hang around and wait for me to pop.” 

He frowned. She kissed the tip of his nose. 

“Listen. I want you here, Scott, I really do. What I don’t want is for you to resent me for asking you to give up something you love.” 

His brows furrowed, concern marking his features. 

“I would never resent you,” he assured her. “I’m here because I want to be here.”

“I know,” Tessa stroked his cheek, blinking at him. God, he was handsome. His lips were full, his eyelashes long and curling. She loved the intensity of his jawline, the way his eyes watched her as if she were the only woman in the world. She wanted to kiss him, wanted to curl into him and listen to his heartbeat and stay right here until the baby was born. “I know, babe. But you also want to work with your students. They need you.” 

She could see the unasked question in his eyes: _and you don’t?_

“I want you to be happy. And I want your help. When the baby… when Evie is born, I want you to be here, and I want you to be ready to commit to her. And you can’t do that if part of your head is still up there in Montreal.” 

He studied her face and she knew that she’d made her point. She’d hit his weak spot, had asked him for help, and just as he hadn’t been able to deny her when she’d first brought up the prospect of serving as her sperm donor, he couldn’t deny her now. 

“Okay,” he said after a long moment, nodded. “Okay. I’ll figure it out.” 

“I’ll make sure I give you advance notice for the appointments,” she promised. “And in the meantime, I’ll get things together. I’ll get clothes, supplies. I’ll nest.” 

“I want to nest!” He pouted, and she laughed, suddenly filled with an indescribable love for him. 

“I know you do,” she stroked his hair, tangled her fingers in the dark strands. “But that’s the mama bird’s job.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the daddy bird’s job?” The pout was still evident in his voice. 

“The daddy bird’s job is to do what the mama bird tells him to do,” she grinned at him. “And I’m telling you to get all your little chickadees in line so they won’t be totally lost once our egg hatches.” She placed his hand on her belly, curled her fingers over his. He laughed. 

“You’re going to be the best mama bird,” he stroked her belly, studied her face. “And our baby bird is so lucky to have you.” 

Tessa turned onto her back, stretching out beside him. His hand rubbed slow, soothing circles over her swollen belly. 

“Thank you,” she said suddenly, eyes focused on the ceiling. From the corner of her eye, she could see the way he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“For what, T?” He asked, pressing his head close to hers, resting it in the crook of her shoulder. Her eyes burned with unshed tears.

“For making me feel beautiful again. Even with pickle breath.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little inspiration from a recent HelloFresh commercial :)

“Hi!” Tessa angled her phone so that the camera captured the length of her face, grinning as Scott came into focus. She felt her face flush at the sight of him, wished desperately that she were looking at him in the flesh rather than over the tiny screen of her phone. “How are you?” 

The screen flashed for a moment, the picture frozen, his face illuminated. The sound malfunctioned, his voice hiccupping in a robotic monotone. She frowned, waited for the screen to animate once more. 

“Hey, you,” he smiled at her. He was in bed, pillows propped beneath his head. The phone was angled above him and she took a moment to study his face, the sharp curve of his jaw. He was bare-chested, and she longed to touch and brush her fingers over the smooth skin. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” she nodded, settled back against the headboard of her bed. “Hey, look!” She turned the phone, adjusted it so that he could see the swell of her belly, even pushed up her shirt so that he could see the taut skin. “Do you see?” 

She could see him studying her, his lips curving into a broad smile. She kept the phone focused on her belly as her hand tenderly traced the tight skin, illustrating the roundness. 

“I see, baby. You look amazing, so healthy.” His voice was so soft, her heart suddenly aching for him. He was quiet for a moment, studied her belly before she turned the camera back to her face. “Are you eating right? Taking your vitamins?” 

“Yes,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in feigned annoyance. “I am.” 

“What about exercise? You’re not overdoing it, right?” His voice was concerned, dark eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not working too much?”

“No, Scott, I’m not overdoing it,” she promised him, “I’m walking, I’m stretching. I’m not doing anything that you wouldn’t approve of.” She grinned at him. 

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “you’re in London, and I’m in Montreal, and I don’t approve of that.” He winked at her. She laughed softly. 

“God, I miss you, Scott.” 

“I miss you, too,” he admitted quietly. “So much.” 

She curled her fingers around the phone, exhaling, watching him. 

“How much longer do you think you’ll have to be up there?” Her voice was quiet, hesitant. She didn’t want to admit it, but she regretted encouraging him to go. She hated being here alone, hated seeing him only over FaceTime at night. She wished he’d refused her entreaties to go, despite the fact that she’d sworn to him she’d be okay without him. It was hard, harder than she’d anticipated, and she couldn’t remember ever feeling this lonely. 

He sighed, the corners of his lips turning down. 

“Ten more days at least,” his voice was soft, and she heard the regret within. “Unless you need me. I can get out of it, T, I just-”

“No,” she cut him off, had to. If he continued, if he gave her an excuse or a reason that he needed to be home with her, she wouldn’t be able to resist him. She ached for his touch, missed the taste of his mouth. Seeing him wasn’t enough, she needed to physically touch him, needed him to hold her. “No, it’s okay.” She wasn’t sure it was enough to convince him, but it was all she had. “You have a job to do. And I’m okay. Really. I just miss you.” 

He frowned, then nodded. 

“I know. How’s Evie?” 

Tessa couldn’t help but to smile, her hand rounding at her belly once more. 

“She’s fantastic,” Tessa’s eyes lowered to her belly, then glanced back up at Scott. “She misses you, too. She hasn’t been as active since you’ve been gone.” 

The sad smile on his face was gone in an instant, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. 

“Tess, is that normal? Is everything okay?” 

“It’s fine,” Tessa shook her head, brushing away his concerns. “She’s still moving. She’s just… she responds so much to your voice. It’s been different since you’ve been away.” 

There was a silence between them, and she felt his eyes on her before she glanced up, meeting his gaze. 

“Stop worrying,” she instructed him. “I’m fine. I’m more than fine. I’m thriving.” She grinned at him, baring her teeth. 

“Oh yeah?” He teased, settling against his pillows. “Thriving without me, huh? You’re sure about that?” 

She shrugged playfully, turned her face into her shoulder, grinning. 

“Maybe.” 

“Wow,” he scoffed playfully, “I think I’ve been gone too long, if you’re not missing-”

There was a clatter suddenly and Tessa watched as the phone fell from Scott’s hands and onto his face, a quiet curse slipping from his lips before he managed to get his hands on the phone again. When his face reappeared, he muttered a quiet “oopsie” and Tessa broke into laughter, her belly heaving with the motion. She laughed until she cried, burying her face in the pillow as the fabric absorbed her tears. 

Scott began to laugh, too, his deep chuckle sounding so sweet, sounding like home. She caught her breath after a few minutes, settled against her headboard and studied his face. 

“It’s late, babe. You should get some rest,” he encouraged her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” 

She didn’t want him to go, but he was right; it was nearly midnight. He had another full day of practice tomorrow and she had a busy day, as well. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to miss him so desperately, couldn’t stand the idea of falling asleep without him beside her. 

“Okay,” she nodded, “I know it’s late, but I… I don’t want to be alone. Would you stay with me? Just… until I fall asleep?” 

Scott’s face softened, a small smile spreading across his lips. 

“Yeah, of course, babe. Whatever you need.” 

Tessa settled beneath the blankets, placed her cell phone against a pillow and turned it to face her. She could see her reflection in the tiny square at the top left of her screen, could see Scott’s dark hazel eyes studying her. She yawned, blinked at him, shifted and positioned a pillow against her round belly. 

“I wish you were here,” she said quietly, feeling and hearing the emotion build in her throat. Scott could hear it, too; she could tell from the way his eyes suddenly appeared wet. 

“I wish I was, too,” he acknowledged. “I’m sorry.” 

Tessa watched him, her eyes beginning to close slowly. 

“It’s okay,” she assured him. 

And it was, at least until she woke the next morning and he was no longer watching her. 

The next week was slow, nearly torturous. She hadn’t expected to miss him so much, hadn’t realized how dependent she’d become on him until he was no longer there for her to depend on. There was so much he did that she took for granted, so many little things that made her long for him. 

There were spots on her skin that she couldn’t reach to scratch; she found herself rubbing her back against the corner of a wall in an attempt to satisfy the insatiable urge. She found herself, one Tuesday morning, sobbing because she suddenly couldn’t bend to tie her sneakers. It was unfair, terribly ridiculous to be so emotional about something so small, but she knew that Scott would have held her hand as he talked her through her emotions. He would have bent, tied her shoes, maybe even massaged her aching shins. He would have known what to do. 

She was sick, more nauseous than she’d ever been in her life several mornings in a row. She would kneel before the toilet, vomiting and heaving, her fingers curling around the edges of the toilet seat. If Scott had been there, he would have pulled her hair into a ponytail, stroked her back, talked her through her sickness. He would have known how to make shitty feel not so terribly shitty. 

It was after this nausea one morning that she fell into bed, pulled her phone from her nightstand and began to scroll through her social media. There were pictures of her friends and their children, memes that, under different conditions, may have brought a smile to her face, and then there was the photograph of Scott. 

It wasn’t posted from his account, but he’d been tagged in it, and she stared at the photo for a moment before realizing she vaguely recognized the face, the name of the woman who had posted the photo. It was a woman with honey-colored hair, eyes brown and wide. They were standing close, their faces pressed together, wide grins splitting their lips.   
She wasn’t sure for a moment, and then realized: it was his assistant coach. Her name was Maria, and she was young, or at least she looked it. She had to be in her late-twenties, thin and toned and Tessa knew that if Maria reached her arms up, if her abs were to peek out from beneath her shirt, she would see the defined abs that Tessa had sported for so many years herself. It filled her with a unease, a sense of discomfort that made her heart race in her chest, made her stomach feel sick even despite the fact that there was nothing left to purge.

Her mouth was dry, her face hot to the touch. It was just a picture, she knew, it didn’t mean anything. He was smiling, but it wasn’t the smile he reserved for her. It wasn’t the smile she’d come to know over the past twenty-odd years, wasn’t the smile she’d found herself falling in love with over the past several months. 

And then there it was; the thought she’d tried not to face for so long. She was in love with him, had let herself fall so desperately in love with him that the thought of living a life apart from him was now a terrifying and strange existence. It was something she didn’t want, something she didn’t know how to handle. She wanted him here with her, wanted his arms around her, not Maria. She wanted his face pressed against hers, wanted that smile to be because of her. 

She scrolled away from the image, moved into her text message application. Her fingers worked quickly, finding Scott’s name and typing out a message to him: _I miss you so much._

But that wasn’t enough, wasn’t indicative of her feelings. She did miss him; missed him terribly, but she felt anxious and jealous and needed reassurance from him. She erased the words, typed out another sentence: _Do you miss me?_

But that wasn’t right, either. It was too needy, too much. It made her feel desperate, made her look like she couldn’t function without him. She erased the words, tried once more. This time, she navigated back to the photograph, took a screen shot, and then attached it to the text message. 

_I didn’t realize the two of you were so close._

It was unnecessary and accusatory, she knew. But she could still taste the bile in her mouth and the bitterness of seeing him pressed so closely to the other woman. She suddenly didn’t want to make this easy for him, didn’t care if he got upset or if she was being irrational. She was seven months pregnant with his child and he was supposed to be in Montreal to coach, not to pose for pictures with his assistant coach. 

She sent the text message, waited a minute, then two for his response. The moment she placed her cell phone back on the nightstand, it rang. She hesitated, watched his face appear on the screen before picking it up. She pressed the phone close to her ear, waited for him to speak. 

“Tess?” He sounded concerned, distracted. She could hear the shrieking of children in the background, knew from the echoes that he was in the rink, likely pressed into a corner with the phone to his ear, trying to hear her over the noise. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” she lied, her voice quiet. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“The picture…” he said, though he had to strain to be heard over the noise of his students. “It’s just my assistant, Tess. It’s not anything…” his voice faded again. She felt a tightening in her belly, stifled a sob as she realized it was the baby adjusting within her womb. One of her hands flew to the bump, stroking it gently. “You know that, don’t you? You know how important you are to me.” 

“I just…” Tessa mumbled, her thumb absentmindedly tracing the roundness of her belly. “I just didn’t realize she was so pretty.”

“What?” He said the word in disbelief, and she wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t hear her or because he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Tessa, it’s not… it’s nothing like that. She’s my assistant and that’s it… you’re not jealous, are you?” 

It wasn’t an accusation, exactly, and it also wasn’t said in jest. He wasn’t trying to be cute or funny, she knew. She heard the confusion in his voice. 

“No,” she lied once more, though she wasn’t sure why. Of course she was jealous, he had to know that. They hadn’t made a spoken commitment to one another, but for all intents and purposes, they were in a relationship. He was practically living at her house when he was in town, they were having a child together. Seeing him with a beautiful woman shouldn’t have unsettled her, but it did. 

“Kiddo,” his voice was softer, the background quieter. Maybe he’d ducked into the washroom or locker room, maybe even outside. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to be jealous. You know there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than with you. The thought of coming home to you in a few days is the only thing that’s getting me through this. You believe me, don’t you?” 

She worried her lower lip between her teeth, fought to keep the tears at bay, nodded against the phone. 

“Yeah. I know. I know.”

She heard him sigh, could picture him running a hand though his dark hair, the corners of his mouth turned down into a frown. 

“I miss you, Tessa. I miss you so much more than you even realize.” The desperation in his voice broke her heart, and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “We only have a few more days, though, okay? We can do this. We’ve been apart longer than this.” 

_Yes, but never like this_ , she wanted to say. Never when she wanted him, needed him so desperately that it was all she could do not to get onto a plane and fly to Montreal to be with him. They’d never been apart like this and craved one another so much. 

“I miss you,” she replied, “hurry home, okay?”

“I will,” he promised, and she heard someone call his name, heard him mutter a distracted response. “I have to go. I’ll see you in a few days. I… stay safe, okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

She was clutching the phone, resisting the urge to beg him not to hang up, but he was telling her goodbye and then the line went dead. 

She spent the next three days missing him. 

There were rumors on Twitter and tumblr about the photo; there always were, that was nothing new, and through their career she’d managed to convince herself that the majority of them were baseless accusations. Whether it was the fact that these rumors didn’t involve her, or the fact that her pregnancy hormones were in full swing, it felt different this time. The attacks felt more personal, more vindictive. There were reported sightings of Scott and Maria spending time together outside the rink, reports (though no proof) of physical affection that included hand-holding and intimate embraces. 

She’d managed to talk herself through most of the lies, was able to convince herself that Scott wanted to be with her, not another woman. She believed that he cared about her, that his words of encouragement and love were true. She thought of the way he’d looked at her when he’d slipped inside her, the way his lips had mumbled compliments against her skin, the way he’d thrust into her and held her so tightly to him. 

And then she thought of her belly, the fact that her abs were no longer visible, the way her hipbones had become less sharp with each month of her pregnancy, and by the time Scott dragged himself into her doorway after she hadn’t seen him for over three weeks, she already had tears in her eyes. 

He knew right away that something was wrong, she could see it in his face. He approached her slowly, as one would approach a wild animal, eyes full of concern. 

“Tess? What’s wrong?” 

“You’re in love with her,” the accusation slipped from her, her lower lip trembling with the effort of holding herself together. Even as she said the words, she knew in the deepest part of her mind that they weren’t true. Scott had never led her to believe that there was anyone else in his life. It would have been an easy enough excuse to avoid becoming involved as her sperm donor in the first place. 

His face fell, his lips parting in genuine surprise. 

“Tessa… what?!”

He was already moving toward her, taking her into his arms, but she fought him, pushed away from him. 

“Did you fuck her?” She was already crying, pulling herself out of his arms. It was nearly indescribable, the way she felt, watching his face and knowing that these emotions were stemming from nothing more than the hormones that raged throughout her. “Do you think she’s prettier than me?” 

“Tessa,” he said her name sternly, drawing her attention. “Why are you acting this way?” 

She just wanted him to hold her, take her into his arms and shush her until she felt silent. She wanted him to kiss her until she had no more tears left, until her face was flushed from passion rather than negative emotion. 

“Because you spent the past three weeks with a beautiful woman who’s clearly in love with you, Scott! Because I can’t even bend over to tie my shoes and you could do Jell-O shots off that woman’s abs! Because I’m carrying our baby and I’m so in love with you that I-”

It was almost instantaneous, the realization of what she’d said. Immediately, her hands flew to her lips, her fingers cupping her mouth. She could feel her warm, damp breath on her palm, and Scott’s eyes instantly widened. 

“What?” He asked, his fingers outstretched to her, frozen in place from his effort to soothe her with his touch. 

She shook her head desperately, still clutching her mouth. 

God, this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. She hadn’t wanted it to be like this, with her a blubbering mess, flushed and hysterical and her hair in a messy bun. She’d wanted to tell him when she felt good about herself, maybe after they’d had sex, when she was flushed with the glow of love-making. But not like this, not with tears in her eyes and false accusations on her lips. 

“You’re in love with me?” 

He was looking at her as if she were the only other person in the world, as if she hadn’t just thrown baseless rumors and allegations in his face as if they were facts. He looked at her like the stars that shone, like she’d hung the moon in the sky. 

And then he was moving toward her again, taking her face into his hands, kissing her wet cheeks. His thumb traced the path of her tears, wiping them away. He stroked her hair, shushed her as she sobbed into his chest. 

“I’m in love with you, too, Tess,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. “So desperately in love with you.”

As he held her, kissed her face, her tears dried. 

“I’m in love with you,” she said again, her voice quiet, as if she were just realizing it for the first time. “Maybe I always have been.” 

He held her, stroked her back, brushed her damp hair from her face. 

“Well it’s about time you realized it,” he said gently, smiling, brushing his lips gently over hers. “I’ve only been waiting for you to say that since I was nine years old.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter felt rushed or not up to quality. I promise we're getting there!


	17. Chapter 17

He wasn’t looking for it when he saw it, but when the glint of the diamond caught his eye, he knew right away that it was perfect. 

It was a silver ring, displayed in the window of the jewelry store, and it brought him to a halt. He studied it for a moment, considering the square diamond, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. The plaster hand which displayed the diamond was slender, thin, just like Tessa’s. He thought of her pale fingers, imagined slipping the piece of jewelry onto her ring finger and catching her grinning lips in a gentle kiss. He thought of the words he might say, how he might slide onto his knee as she sat on the couch, one hand holding hers as the other traced her swollen belly. 

He was on his way to meet Tessa now; they’d planned to shop for baby clothes. But he was running early (for once) and they weren’t scheduled to meet at the boutique a block down for another twenty minutes. He glanced toward his destination, then back to the ring that glittered in the display window. 

Taking a breath, he pushed his way into the store. 

He was only running a few minutes late when he emerged, the ring secured in a small black box in his pocket. He’d held it with trembling hands when the jeweler had presented it to him, and it felt so tiny and slight within his fingers. He thought, once more, of the way it would look on Tessa’s delicate ring finger, and knew even before he’d slipped the credit card from his wallet that it would be worth every penny just to see the expression on her face when it was revealed to her. 

He curled his fingers around the square box as he hurried down the sidewalk, steadied his breathing as he pulled the boutique doors open, his eyes searching for Tessa. He spotted her almost instantly, her dark head bent over a shelf displaying baby clothes. He moved to stand behind her silently, his hands sneakily slipping around her waist in a gentle embrace. 

She shrieked quietly, jumped, and then broke into a peel of laughter when she turned to catch his eye. His arms embraced her smoothly, pulling her against his chest, his lips brushing her cheek. 

“Scott, you scared the shit out of me,” she sighed, but as she exhaled she laughed again softly. He let his head fall into the nape of her neck, nuzzling the soft skin on her shoulder, lips placing soft kisses there. “You’re late, again.” She sounded annoyed, but her voice was soft, and he knew that she was feigning irritation. 

“Mm,” he breathed into her skin, “I have a good excuse.” 

“Oh?” She turned to look at him, eyebrow arched. “Do share.” 

Scott smirked, turned his face away from her, focused on the tiny pieces of clothing she’d been studying before he’d approached her. He reached for one tiny yellow outfit, unfolding it and holding it in front of him. 

“Tess,” he said her name, drawing her attention away from his face to the tiny outfit. “How cute is this?” 

She smiled, her eyes softening at the miniature dress. 

“Oh,” she breathed, her lithe fingers reaching for the outfit. “That’s so adorable.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, reaching for another piece of clothing as she took the first from him. “What about this one?” 

She turned her attention to the shirt he held, but then gasped and hurried away from him, fingering a small pink outfit before pulling it from the rack. She turned to Scott, holding the outfit over her bulging belly. It was a small pink onesie and set of leggings, a pair of impossibly tiny ballet slippers attached. 

“Scott,” she breathed, “look, a little ballerina.” 

“Aww,” he glanced up at her face, saw the tears welling in her eyes. “Are you crying, T?” 

His hand moved to her back, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. 

“No,” she sniffled, tucking the outfit beneath her arm and turning away from him. He could see the way her hand wiped at her eyes, saw the wetness on her cheek before he chuckled softly, taking her into his arms and cradling her head against his chest. 

“Oh, Tess,” he shushed her, stroked her dark hair. “It’s okay. I know you’re emotional, baby.” 

She sighed, rested against him for a moment before bringing her hand up to his chest, her fingertips curling against him. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighed, sniffling once more, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. This is insane, I don’t even know why I’m crying. I don’t know why I’m so emotional.” 

His fingers traced her jawline, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“You’re emotional because you’re very pregnant, Tess,” his voice was soft, one hand tracing over the swell of her belly. His fingers cupped the roundness as he pressed a kiss against her temple. “How about I take you home? We can do this another day, yeah?” 

“No, no,” she shook her head, traced her fingers over his chest, “we’re already here. And look, we’ve found three outfits already. Just a few more and we’ll be good.” She blinked up at him, smiling. “Besides, we have to take advantage of the time you’re in town, right? I never know when you’re going to get dragged back to Montreal.” 

He smiled, studied her face, and then nodded. 

“Okay, Tess. But if you start crying over hair bows I’m going to have to take you home.” 

She laughed, smacked him playfully in the chest before shoving the few small outfits into his arms. 

“How about you just hold those clothes, stand there and look cute?” She grinned at him, but her eyes were rimmed with red. He accepted the clothes, chuckling.

“You think I’m cute, eh?” He teased her. 

She made a show of rolling her eyes at him, huffing out a tiny laugh. 

“Don’t push it, Mr. Moir.” 

They left the store nearly thirty minutes later, Scott’s arms laden with bags. He walked her to her car, loaded the shopping bags into her car and then made his way to his own vehicle. He unlocked the door and slid inside, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the small square box. He flipped it open, studied the ring, took a few quiet breaths. 

He was on his way to Tessa’s house now; he thought of how she might react if he pulled the ring out and asked her tonight to marry him. He thought of what she might say, wondered if she’d cry, and if those tears would be of joy or regret. 

When he arrived at her house, he slipped the box back into his pocket and slipped out of his car, made his way to her front door. She was already waiting for him.

“There you are,” she grinned, already slipping her arms around him and pulling him to her. Her belly was large and round between them, and he kept one hand on it, fingers splayed as he caught her lips. There was a sudden, jerky motion beneath his fingers and Tessa gasped, pulling away from him, hands flying to her abdomen. 

“Oh,” she laughed softly, looking down at her belly in surprise before placing her hand over his, pressing his fingers into her belly. “Do you feel that?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes glued to the roundness of her belly. “Yeah, I feel it.” 

“She’s moving,” Tessa informed him, her eyes tracing his face as her fingers held his in place. “That’s her little foot. She’s kicking.” 

“Tess,” he breathed out her name, his mouth suddenly dry. He sank to his knees, placing his hands on either side of her belly. He paused on his knees before her, pushed her white cotton shirt up, exposing the taut skin of her belly. He watched her, saw the slight ripple of movement beneath her skin, then moved to press his lips against it. “Hey, sweet girl. What are you doing in there? Are you kicking your mommy?” 

Tessa grinned down at him, ruffling her fingers through his hair. He glanced up at her, saw her green eyes brimming with tears as she watched him. 

He allowed his fingers to splay on her belly, traced his thumbs over the skin. 

“We can’t wait to meet you, Evie. We can’t wait to hold you, and kiss you. Your mom and I are so excited to see you.” He spoke softly, so softly that he wasn’t sure Tessa could hear him, but she sniffled and laughed softly and scratched lightly at his scalp. 

“Scott,” she whispered, watching as he pressed his lips against her skin once more, twice more, and then grinned back up at her. He thought suddenly of the ring in his pocket, considered pulling it out right now and offering it to her, telling her that although it had been less than a month since they’d confessed their love to one another, there were two decades of passion and commitment between them. If given the chance, he knew he’d marry Tessa tomorrow and spend the rest of his life making up for every moment that had been lost between them. 

Still, the moment didn’t feel right, and despite how much he wanted to slip that ring onto her finger and ask her to spend the rest of her life with him, he pushed himself to his feet, gently tugging her shirt over her belly and taking her hand. He brought it to his mouth, kissed his fingertips. 

“Let’s get you seated,” he directed her to the couch, helped her sit. He fell onto the couch beside her, glanced toward her, caught her eyes. In his pocket, his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it from his hip, swiped over the screen, noticed the email notification. 

He could feel Tessa’s eyes on him, but he focused on the screen as his email application opened. The title of the email caught his eye: Full-Time Opportunity. He studied the words for a moment, glancing toward the sender’s name, recognizing it immediately as the coaching association through which he was employed. 

Once he selected the email, he scanned the words, his lips moving in silence as he read. 

_We hope this communication finds you well… we are pleased to be able to offer you a full-time position with The Montreal International Skating School… we hope that you will be able to begin as soon as possible… please contact us at your earliest convenience…_

He focused on the words, but it took a long moment for him to interpret their meaning. He re-read the email, feeling the pride swell in his chest at the opportunity offered to him. It had been a dream of his for as long as he could remember, coaching full-time. The idea that it was happening now, that there was the possibility for this to come to life… it was overwhelming. 

It didn’t occur to him for another moment that the position was for Gadbois, that this opportunity would require him to move to Montreal full-time. That it would involve being more than seven-hundred kilometers away from Tessa, away from their baby. His heart fell in his chest, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

“What do you think it’s going to be like?” She asked, her voice quiet. He drew his eyes away from the email and toward her, his thumb unconsciously swiping away from the email as he met her gaze. There was a tiny smile on her face, and it was this, the way the corners of her lips turned up, the way her soft green eyes watched him, that made him immediately realize there was no way he could ever leave her.

“What?” He asked, sliding his phone back into his pocket before leaning back to slip his arm around her, pulling her against his chest. 

“Having a baby,” she responded, one hand falling onto her belly as she rested her head against him. “Raising a baby together. How hard do you think it’s going to be?” 

“Hmm,” he made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his fingers stroking her arm as he studied her beautiful face, her dark hair. “Well, I don’t know. On a scale of one to triple axel, I think it ranks somewhere up there towards the latter.” 

She laughed hard and loud, her belly shaking with the effort. He laughed as well, placed a hand on her belly. 

“I’m serious, Scott. How do you think it’s going to change our relationship?” 

She settled against him once more. He found her hand, played with her fingertips. 

“I think it’s going to make me realize how insanely lucky I am that you chose me, that you asked me to do this with you. I think I’m going to wake up every day and look at you and look at our little girl and wonder what the hell I did right to deserve both of you.” He nuzzled her neck, placed a soft kiss against her skin. “And to be honest with you, I’m already trying to figure that out.” 

He felt her smile, heard the soft sound of satisfaction in the back of her throat. 

“You know, when I was thinking about this, when I was deciding that I wanted to use a sperm donor, you were the first person I thought of… the only person, really. And I don’t… if you would have said no, I don’t think I could have done this with anyone else. I know I couldn’t have, actually. I would have used an anonymous donor, and I just…” she paused, took a breath, “The baby wouldn’t know her dad. She would have been so loved and taken care of, but she would never have known her dad, and honestly, Scott… I’m so happy she gets to have you.” 

He felt his breath leave him, his mouth going dry at her words. 

“Yeah?” It was the only word he could say, watching as Tessa pressed his hand once more to her belly. “You think I’m going to be a good dad?” 

“Scott,” she turned to look at him, meeting his dark eyes. “You’re going to be the most amazing dad. I can’t wait to see the two of you together.”

He felt the emotion welling within him, cleared his throat. 

“Tess…” he whispered her name and she adjusted to face him fully. 

“I love you,” she breathed, her fingers brushing his jaw. “I love you so much, Scott. I can’t wait to have a family with you.” 

Her words overwhelmed him, and she grinned before leaning forward, pressing her lips against his. She moved to adjust herself over him, but Scott was quicker than she was, already slipping his arms under and pulling her into his embrace. She squealed, then laughed as he hoisted her into the air, holding her close to his chest. 

“Scott!” She laughed, her arms curling around his neck as he carried her down the hallway, up the stairs and to her bedroom. She found his lips once more, capturing them in a sweet embrace and sighing as he gently lowered her to the mattress. 

He drew his lips away from her mouth, placed soft kisses against her jawline and neck and worked his way down her chest. He skimmed over the fabric of her skirt, pushed it up and brushed his lips over the taut skin of her belly. 

“Scott,” she whispered once more, meeting his eyes as his lips brushed the roundness, looking down at him as he moved lower. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m making you feel good,” he breathed, and then his fingers were tugging down her leggings. 

*

Tessa sighed, arching her hips to allow him to pull the leggings off. She reached behind her, fingers curling around a pillow before shoving it beneath her head. 

She couldn’t see his face between her legs, could see only the dark of his hair as it disappeared behind her swollen belly, but she parted her legs and knew that Scott had removed her panties as well. She felt one of his hands touch her inner thigh, guiding her legs just slightly further apart. Tessa took his cue, spreading her legs and allowing her hips to sink against the mattress. 

Her fingers rifled through his dark hair, sucking in her breath as she felt the flat of his tongue against her center. She groaned and arched against him already, the tip of his tongue already teasing her clit. 

“Oh,” she whispered, and she felt him smirk against her, place a soft, wet kiss against her inner thigh before he was flicking and sucking on her folds, pulling them between his own lips, causing her to buck her hips against his mouth. “Oh, Scott.” 

It was all she could say, all she could do to tangle her fingers in his hair and look down at him, whisper his name desperately and let him know that she was right here with him, arching beneath his mouth. 

The pregnancy had heightened her sense of arousal, had caused her to be sensitive in ways she never had before, but the sight of Scott kneeling between her legs as she spread herself over the mattress was undeniable. She could see his dark head bobbing and shifting between her legs, curled her fingers against his scalp just as she had earlier in the evening when he’d kneeled to place those soft kisses over her belly. 

She thought of him using his tongue to part her folds, finding her clit and coaxing it from its protective hood. She thought of his fingers and tongue spreading her, exposing her glistening core to the cold air. It was almost too much, but it wasn’t quite enough to send her over the edge, her thighs tightening and relaxing around his head. 

“Tessa,” he whispered her name, and she could feel his warm breath against her entrance, her hips bucking against the air, desperate for purchase. “Are you going to come for me?” 

“Yes,” she whispered, curling her fingers in his air, “Yes, baby, I’m so close.” 

Her words seemed to inspire him, and she felt his tongue begin to flick desperately at her, her breath coming heavier, her chest heaving as she panted, so close to her release. She felt the skin on her chest flush, felt her heart pounding in her chest, felt the desire beginning to unspool within her abdomen. 

“Scott, make me-” she begged breathlessly, “please…”

“That’s it, T,” he encouraged her, pulling his mouth from her for just a moment, just long enough to breath the words, “I love you so much.”

She felt his fingers part her folds, felt him expose her and continue to lap at her, but it was his words that set off the orgasm deep within her belly. The commitment, the idea that he was in this for the long run. It was the thought of waking up next to him each morning, falling asleep next to him each night. It was the satisfied groan she heard in the back of his throat before she cried out her release, whimpering for him urgently as she rode out her orgasm, bucking against his face as his mouth continued to work her. 

She could feel her wetness, knew that she was making a mess of the blanket beneath her and his face, and couldn’t be bothered to care as her thighs trembled, attempted to close around his head. He placed his hand once more on her inner thigh, laughing lightly as he kept her legs parted. She sighed, groaned, fell back against the bed. 

She watched him for another moment, his dark head working between her legs as he cleaned her up, began to kiss up her belly, his touch gentle and affectionate. He fell onto the mattress beside her, her chest still heaving. He leaned in, caught her lips, her taste still on his tongue. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, “so beautiful when you come for me.” 

She felt her chest flush once more, knew her cheeks were dark pink with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. He grinned. 

“You’re so shy all of a sudden,” he teased, brushed her dark hair from her face. “What’s that about?” 

“I just...” she turned her head into the pillow, smiling sheepishly. “You’ve never done that before… it was… you’re really good…” her voice faded, watching him as a prideful smile slid over his lips. 

“Is that a compliment, Tessa Virtue?” 

She made a small, contented sound in the back of her throat, nodded. 

“It’s definitely a compliment. You’ve…” her tongue darted out to wet her parched lips, dry from the heavy breaths she’d taken as he’d knelt between her legs. “You’ve had a lot of practice, yeah?” 

She couldn’t keep the jealousy from her voice, suddenly couldn’t reject the image of him between another woman’s legs, making her throw her head back in ecstasy just as she had, the idea of his lips tracing up her skin, her taste in his mouth. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was the intrusive thought that she couldn’t deny, the thought of him being owned by another woman. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he breathed, tracing his fingers over her belly. “You’re the only one I’m practicing with now.”

He pulled away from her, pulled his phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed before pushing himself to his feet. 

“I need a cold shower,” he smiled at her, “You rest, okay? When I get out I’ll order us some food. How does Italian sound?” 

She grinned, settled back against the pillow. 

“Delicious.” 

He watched her for a moment, smiling, before moving into the washroom. She paused, listened as the shower started, the sound of the water changing as he stepped beneath the steady stream. 

She closed her eyes, took a few quiet breaths, her hands resting on her belly. She thought of her life being this way, Scott in the shower, her relaxing with the baby. Having dinner together, and then falling asleep in his arms. She thought of the way their life could be, the way she’d never known she always wanted. 

The buzzing of his phone distracted her from her daydream, drew her attention to the tiny black rectangle on the bed beside her. She glanced toward the washroom, listened for the shower to shut off, and then settled as the phone stopped buzzing. 

A few seconds later it happened again, vibrating multiple times before quieting. She hesitated, considered looking at it, then decided it wasn’t right. Scott was allowed to have his privacy; he was encouraged to have his own life. Just because she was a few months away from delivering their baby didn’t mean he wasn’t permitted a life separate from hers.   
It wasn’t until the phone began to vibrate for the third time that she reached for it, concerned that maybe it was one of his family members with an emergency. It wasn’t a call, as she’d expected, but a series of text messages, each one accompanied with the sender’s name: Maria. 

She felt the jealousy coil within her belly, but took a breath and attempted to allow it to settle. Scott had promised her that there was nothing between them, and when her eyes regretfully screened the text messages she’d sent, she felt a smile spreading across her lips. 

_My husband and I are so happy for you!_

It was the first message, and Tessa literally exhaled, relieved at the fact that Maria wasn’t single, wasn’t waiting around for Scott to sweep her off her feet and away from Tessa.   
Still, she was curious. Maria and her husband were happy for Scott, but for what? For the baby, or had something else happened? 

Looking toward the washroom once more, she swiped her finger over the screen, the text message conversation opening. She wasn’t spying, she tried to rationalize, though it was abundantly clear to her that she’d already crossed the threshold of respecting Scott’s privacy. She felt guilty and sick, but it didn’t stop her from scanning the messages. 

_You saw the email, right?_ The first message read. It was followed by the one she’d already seen: _My husband and I are so happy for you!_ The third and final message appeared: _You’re going to accept, aren’t you?_

The words left a pit in Tessa’s stomach. Email. She scrolled to his email without thinking, opening the application and selecting the message at the top, the one from The Montreal International Skating School. It had already been read, but Scott hadn’t yet replied. She felt sick before she read the message, nausea already beginning to turn her stomach. She knew before she began to read what to expect, hoped to God she was wrong. 

It only took a few seconds for her to scan the email, eyes seeking out the most vital information: _full time position, relocation costs, as soon as possible._

She felt panicked suddenly, dropped the phone onto the bed and cried out, pushing it away with her foot. This wasn’t real, couldn’t be happening. She’d encouraged him to coach, had basically begged him to go, to focus on his career while he could. But it had backfired, she realized.

She heard the shower shut off, her eyes moving toward the sound. She held her breath, tried to focus on her heartbeat. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, wanted to believe that this had caught him just as off-guard. She wanted to believe that he’d already made up his mind, had already decided that he’d never leave her or their baby.   
But she was seven-and-a-half months pregnant, and for all the rationality that normally occupied her brain, she could find none for this situation. By the time Scott appeared in the doorway, dressed in a pair of black shorts, she already had tears in her eyes. 

“When were you going to tell me about Montreal, Scott?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally updated... and I am so sorry for the wait. Part 1/2!


	18. Chapter 18

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed, a lock of dark hair falling into his face before he brushed it away with his hand. 

“What?” He blinked, and she saw the confusion register in his eyes just before the realization seemed to hit him. “Tessa, you-”

“Your phone wouldn’t stop going off,” she accused, feeling the anger and jealousy rising in her chest. It wasn’t good for her, wasn’t good for the baby to be under this stress, but despite how much she wanted to be able to rationalize this, she simply couldn’t. “It was Maria.” She said her name with more bitterness than she’d intended, the fear of her romantic interest in Scott no longer a serious threat. “She wanted to congratulate you about the full-time job in Montreal, Scott.” 

“I didn’t even-”

“You read the email, Scott!” Her voice was shrill, accusatory. “It was read. Did you respond? Did you accept the position?” 

His lips parted, eyes dark. 

“Are you serious? And what are you… you went through my phone?” He wasn’t as angry as she would have been, knowing she’d violated his privacy. Guiltily, she thought of all of the boundaries she’d broken between them with her invasion of his privacy. She thought of everything he’d done for her over the past two decades, particularly within the past year. The invasive tests he’d endured, the fact that he’d literally masturbated into a cup for her, all of it resonated within her as she thought of the way she’d scrolled through his phone. 

“It wouldn’t stop vibrating,” she hissed at him, just as angry at herself now as she considered the way she’d betrayed him. “I saw a text… it was from Maria, and then I…” her voice faltered as she searched for her words.

“You picked up my phone and decided that you didn’t trust me enough to ask me for the truth before you automatically assumed the worst?” 

He’d moved into the bedroom now, his dark eyes focused on her, waiting for her to continue. He wasn’t interrupting her, wasn’t yelling over her, and somehow it made her angrier. 

“I did trust you,” she insisted, “Jesus, Scott!”

“You looked through my phone,” he said, his voice calmer than she’d anticipated, “You read my text messages, then you read my email, and you have the audacity to tell me you trust me.” 

“Are you leaving me?” She demanded, “Me and the baby? Are you moving to Montreal?” 

He frowned, wiped a hand over his face. 

“Did you even check the date or time of the email, Tessa? Did you even notice that I literally got it two hours ago? When would I have had time to even consider my answer, much less respond?” His voice was soft, humbled, but she saw the realization settle on his face as he finished speaking. 

“So you’re considering it,” she challenged him. 

“Tessa, are you-” he exhaled, turned away from her. “I can’t believe you’re accusing me of this. You know how I feel about you.” 

“I thought I did,” she could barely contain her tears now, wiped at her eyes and turned away from him. She was still propped on the bed, thought of only moments before when he’d knelt between her legs, his fingers and tongue working in synchronicity to bring her to her orgasm. She was flushed, heated, embarrassed and ashamed, though she wasn’t sure it if it stemmed more from the idea of Scott considering moving to Montreal or the fact that she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Scott wouldn’t do this. That it was the hormones and rush of emotion that had brought her to this point, to accuse him of such a thing. 

“Tessa,” he breathed her name desperately, “You’re kidding me, right? You think I would leave you?” He was quiet for a moment, shook his head, and when he spoke again, his voice was quiet, broken. “You think I would leave our daughter?” 

“I don’t know,” she answered, suddenly feeling much less sure of herself, hating that she’d brought them to this point. When she met his eyes, she saw the hurt in them, the betrayal, and she knew that she’d made her point. “I think you need to go home now.” 

She saw his posture slant, watched as he frowned. 

“You’re serious?” He asked, his voice rising in pitch. “You really want me to leave?” 

“I need some space,” she said, though it was suddenly the last thing she wanted. She wanted him to fight for her, reassure her that it was nothing but the hormones that raged throughout her pregnant body, convincing her that he would, even for a second, consider leaving her. 

He faltered for a moment, shook his head as if in disbelief, and wordlessly moved to the bed, grabbing his phone and stalking out of the room. She watched him go, worried her lower lip between her two front teeth. She could feel the heat in her cheeks, felt the pounding of her heart in her chest. She felt the baby move inside her, movement rippling beneath her skin, and her hand flew to her belly. 

She stroked the taut skin, tried to focus on steadying her breath, studying the swell of her belly. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered, fingertips tracing the movement, tears slipping down her cheeks. “It’s okay, sweet girl.”

But it wasn’t okay, Tessa realized, as she sat in the silence of her bedroom, Scott’s scent still lingering on the pillows beside her. It wasn’t okay at all. 

She fought the rest of the night not to text him, frowning at the phone each time a call or message lit up her screen. It wasn’t Scott, she realized each time, dismayed. He wasn’t sitting by the phone, most likely, his fingers itching with the temptation to send her an apology (even though he had nothing to apologize for) or call to hear her voice. It hurt more than it should, she realized, and she spent the night in a restless sleep. It was too hot, then too cold. Her back ached, and then her belly cramped. She would wake after an hour, sweat causing her dark hair to stick to her face. 

Pregnancy had made her fatigue worse, and while she’d always enjoyed sleeping, she blinked awake at nearly noon, confused at the distant sound of her doorbell, her skin clammy and damp. She threw back her duvet, kicked her legs from beneath the sheets and padded out of her bedroom. 

Her fingers traced the railing along the stairs, thinking only of how Scott had carried her up them the night before, the way he’d knelt between her legs and made her feel so beautiful as he’d brought her to orgasm using his mouth. It was a physical loss, the sensation of being apart from him, and she wondered how long it would be until she found the nerve to contact him, to reach out and apologize for (possibly) overreacting when it came to the email. 

As she trudged through the living room, she realized that she hadn’t spent much time considering the message before confronting him about it. If she’d looked at the date, if she’d realized that the message had come only an hour or two before, maybe she would have had enough sense to consider that it had surprised him just as much as it had her. Maybe she would have understood that it wasn’t something he’d been hiding from her for weeks or days, maybe she could have bit her tongue and worried to herself.  
Or she could have asked him, no accusations or confrontations. They’d spent two decades working on their communication, and after Sochi they’d finally gotten it right. More than that, they were going to have to spend the rest of their lives communicating about Evie, and she suddenly wished she’d taken a moment to consider the effect her outburst would have on their relationship. 

When she pulled the door open, Scott was standing before her. He still wore the same clothes from the previous evening, and his hair was mussed. She felt the corners of her lips turning into a frown, her chin trembling as she attempted to hold back her tears, turning away from him and wiping at her eyes. 

“Tessa,” he said her name so desperately, his voice hoarse as if he’d been rehearsing the sound all night. “Please let me come in. Please, Tess. I have to talk to you.” 

The baby shifted in her belly at that moment, foot rippling beneath her skin, and she had no choice but to stand aside and allow him to enter. He stepped in, closed the door gently behind him, and turned to her. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the email,” the words flowed from him, breath hitching. “I swear I only got it an hour or two before you saw it. I wouldn’t have… Tessa, I wouldn’t leave you. I wouldn’t leave our daughter.”

She forced the tears down, swallowed and turned back to face him. 

“I know,” she murmured after a moment, shaking her head. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve been so emotional, and I can’t…” he took her into his arms, held her for a long moment, her face buried in the crook of his neck. “I’m not used to this, Scott. I’m not used to being like this, so emotional. I’m the head, not the heart. I don’t know how to handle myself when I get like this, and you shouldn’t have to handle it either.” 

“Hey,” his voice was soft, his hand stroking her back. “Tess, hey. You’re pregnant, babe. You’re emotional because you’re growing a baby.” As if to accentuate his point, his hand moved to gently cup her swollen belly. “Your body is going through some major changes.”

“I know,” she whimpered desperately, her forehead pressing against his shoulder, her posture fading as he held her. “My boobs hurt.” 

He laughed gently, allowed his hands to stroke her dark hair. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She shook her head. 

“It’s not your fault my boobs hurt. I-”

“No, not about that,” he pulled away slightly, causing her to raise her eyes to look up at him. “I’m sorry about the email. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you as soon as I got it, but you were talking about the baby and it didn’t even really occur to me. I was focused on you, Tess.”

She dropped her gaze, focused her eyes on his feet. She couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t stand to look at him when he was being so damn understanding and he hadn’t done a thing wrong to begin with. She opened her mouth to apologize, to tell him that she was sorry for overreacting, that she wanted him to know that it wouldn’t be like this forever, if he so chose to stay with her that long. It was just the pregnancy, just the hormones that raged through her system and brought her to tears over something as small as being unable to tie her shoelaces. Before she could say anything, however, he spoke again. 

“I bought a ring,” he said, the words seeming so absurdly out of place in the conversation that, immediately, her eyes met his once more. 

“What?” 

“A ring,” he repeated, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I bought you a ring. I wanted to propose to you. I thought about doing it last night, but then…” his voice faded and he was quiet for a moment. 

“You bought me an engagement ring?” She had to say the words aloud to believe them, glanced at his hands and then at his pockets, searching for the bulge of a jewelry box, but he turned his palms up to her, to show her that he had arrived empty-handed. 

“I thought about driving over here, getting down on one knee and asking you to marry me this morning. But then I realized that I wanted it to be special. I want it to be something that happens naturally, something that feels right. I don’t want to propose to you because you’re upset or because I feel bad. I want to ask you to marry me when the moment is right.” 

She blinked, swallowed, glanced back up at him. Her heart raced in her chest, her skin flushed at the thought of Scott kneeling before her, asking her to be his wife. 

“I don’t… I don’t know what to say.” 

He smiled gently, shook his head. 

“You don’t have to say anything right now, Tess. I just… I just wanted you to know that I’m in this for the long run. I’m not here just because of the baby. I’m here because I’m in love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Tessa found herself speechless, unable to do anything but focus on her breathing, her heartbeat. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, blinked up at him. She shifted her weight on her feet, felt the tears beginning to brim in her eyes despite her best attempts to deny them. 

“Will you just kiss me already?” 

His lips found hers. 

*

Scott sat behind Tessa, her petite body positioned between his legs. Her dark hair fell down her back in waves, and he wanted to run his fingers through it, lift it and kiss the back of her neck. He could hear her heavy breaths as she closed her eyes, focused on the words of the woman who stood before them. He glanced around the room, observing a handful of other couples who were in the same situation, women settled between the knees of men. All of the men looked as clueless as he felt. He focused his attention once more on Tessa. 

“Okay partners, now it’s your job to make sure that moms remain calm while in childbirth. You have a pivotal role in the birthing experience, and though you’re not the one who will be delivering the baby, you must be able to walk your partner through each step of the birthing process.” Her voice was as smooth as silk as she stood before them, eyeing each couple. 

Scott allowed his hands to rest of Tessa’s parted knees, the warmth of her skin against his. 

“Are you sure we have to be here?” He pressed his lips against her ear, left a tiny kiss there. “Is this really necessary?” 

“The goal of this birthing class is to assure that each of you has as peaceful a delivery as possible. You’ll learn some breathing techniques and pain management tips.”

“Do you hear that? Pain management?” Tessa turned her head slightly to let herself be heard. “If you ever want to get in my pants again, shut your mouth and pay attention.”

Scott pressed his lips together, settling back into his spot. 

He followed along as Tessa panted, whispered words of encouragement to her as the teacher introduced the mantras. 

“Breathe in strength, breathe out fear,” Scott repeated dutifully, listening to Tessa’s soft voice beneath his own. “The mind of a woman in labor is power underestimated. My body and my baby know what to do.” 

As she finished saying the last sentence, he heard the soft ripple of laughter emerge from within her. He furrowed his eyebrows, leaned forward as she turned her head to speak to him. 

“My body and my baby are both ready to get the hell out of here,” she whispered beneath her breath. He felt her squeeze his hand as they repeated the words, Tessa allowing her lips to form a soft O as she inhaled and exhaled. Slowly, Scott’s hands moved from her fingers to her belly, his fingers cradling the swell of her as she participated in the breathing exercises. 

“Now all of you are at least thirty-two weeks along. A full-term pregnancy is considered between thirty-nine weeks and forty weeks six days. We want to try to do what’s best for baby and keep him or her in your womb until at least thirty-seven weeks. At some point, your doctor may decide that he or she would like to try to induce labor. There are many ways to do this.” 

“Sex,” Scott whispered beneath his breath. Tessa reached back, smacked him playfully on his bicep. He grinned into her shoulder, nipped at the skin there. “Come on, Tess, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off you.”

“Behave,” she warned him, careful to keep her voice low. “Or the next time I get pregnant I’ll use a different donor.” 

Her words were quiet, but sharp, and she must have heard the intake of his breath because she turned fully to him, smiling gently. She studied his eyes for a moment, and then shook her head. 

“I’m kidding, babe. Next time I get pregnant, I intend for us to have a lot more fun in the process.” 

He smiled then, and her eyes softened. 

“I love you.” 

He felt himself grinning, leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.”

When class came to an end, Scott climbed to his feet and then took Tessa’s hand, helping her stand. Her belly was round and large, heavy with their child, and he felt such an indescribable rush of love for her that he took her into his arms, pulled her close to his chest. 

He took in the scent of her strawberry shampoo, closed his eyes and allowed himself to have this moment with her, the two of them alone amidst a group of others. 

“So,” he spoke when he’d finally released her, their fingers linking together as they made their way from the hospital and to the parked car. “Are you feeling confident? Do you think you’ll be able to _breathe in strength, breathe out fear_ once you go into labor?” 

There was a smirk on his lips, and she turned to him, rolling her eyes. 

“You laugh now, but when I’m crushing your hand during delivery you’ll be the one who needs to focus on breathing out fear.” She laughed, and it was a beautiful sound. 

“I don’t doubt that, Tessa Virtue,” he spun her around, pulled her in to press a kiss against her pink lips. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it's been so long since I've updated. When I started this story, that's all it was; a story. Recently, it's hit a little (a lot) close to home and it's been really difficult to even look at it for personal reasons. But I am still in love with this story and I will be finishing it. We have several chapters left and I guarantee you'll enjoy both the journey and the destination. Thank you for reading.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this as one long chapter, but decided it's too important and there are too many things I want to happen. We're already 19 chapters in, what will a few more hurt? I'd estimate from this point, there are likely 5-6 chapters left, so let's drag this out, shall we?

Tessa slid uneasily into the seat beside Scott, her belly round and full. She grinned at him, running a hand over the swell of her abdomen, the other hand reaching for Scott. 

“You good?” He asked, settling into his seat, watching as she adjusted and nodded. 

“Yeah. I think the baby’s pressed up against my bladder,” she smiled crookedly at him. “It’s almost like I can feel her head pushing up against it.” It hadn’t been like this long, only recently had the baby shifted her position. At her most recent ultrasound, they’d discovered that she was positioned head-down, preparing for her birth. The sight of the baby, fully formed now, her tiny body curled within Tessa’s womb, filled her with a sense of wonder that she hadn’t known was possible. Each month as her belly had grown, Tessa had watched through ultrasounds as her child had developed. Seeing her now, even through the blurry frame of the sonogram, she could make out the gentle curve of her nose, the plump of her lips. She had fallen in love, visit after visit, with their daughter. With merely two weeks left to go before her due date, she’d been eager to finish the baby’s room and prepare herself for the new arrival. 

Scott had encouraged her to join him on a date, but when she’d realized that her belly was far too swollen to participate in any of the physical activities they’d previously enjoyed such as skating or hiking, he’d suggested a movie. She’d reluctantly allowed him to drag her from the house, though what she’d truly wanted was to lounge on the couch with him and watch one of her favorite classics. 

His eyes darted to her belly and he ran an appreciative hand over the swell before sitting back. 

“She doesn’t want you to watch the movie, eh?” He lifted his drink, pressed the straw to his lips and took a sip. She watched him, heaved herself from her seat and laughed lightly. 

“I’m going to pee before the movie starts,” she informed him, making her way from the theater and into the hallway, pushing into the washroom and locking the stall door behind her. She relieved herself, washed her hands and rejoined him. The trailers had started, and as she settled into the seat beside him, she felt a cramp low in her abdomen. She shifted, rubbed a hand assuredly over the spot, leaning out of the pain. 

The film played, and Tessa noticed the pain once more. She took a shallow breath, shifted in her seat and exhaled. Scott sat beside her, enraptured by the film, and she took another unsteady breath, hoping to catch his attention. He merely blinked at the screen, his eyes never leaving the film. 

The pain worsened, and the urge to urinate returned. She was no longer able to be distracted by the film, the two-dimensional characters and the flimsy dialogue. She leaned in to Scott, whispered to him that she needed to pee again, and his eyes flicked toward her, a glimmer of concern within his gaze. 

“You okay?” He watched her stand, but she nodded and rubbed a hand over her swollen belly. 

“Yep,” she assured him. It already felt better, standing. It would help to get a little exercise, she rationalized, even if it was a short walk to the washroom. She made her way out of the theater once more, unable to notice the indistinguishable waddle she had, at some point, taken on. She felt like a balloon, bobbing in the air, destined to continue traveling in such an ungainly manner until she brushed against something sharp and popped.

She found the washroom again, locked herself in the stall and lowered herself to the toilet. She began to urinate, the pressure relieving itself almost instantaneously as the liquid trickled from her. She waited five seconds, then ten, then fifteen. Her bladder continued to empty itself. She sat for another moment, tightened the muscles between her legs, and though she could feel the pressure still pressed against her bladder, she knew there was nothing left inside. When she stood, however, she felt the unmistakable trickle of warmth down her thigh. 

Her first thought was panic. It was warm, hot like blood, and she glanced down hurriedly, wiping a finger over her inner thigh to capture some of the liquid. It was clear, not red, and instantly she felt the relief settle within her. An instant later, the thought occurred to her. It wasn’t blood, but it also wasn’t urine. 

The doctors had attempted to prepare her for this moment, had informed her it might happen in public, or even as she slept. They had warned her it would feel like she’d urinated on herself, but none of their discussions had prepared her fully, at least not for a moment like this. 

Her water had broken, and Scott wasn’t within earshot. She didn’t have her cell phone, there wasn’t anyone she could send for him. She knew better than to panic, had known for many months that it would happen and she’d need to steady herself. She swallowed, lowered herself to the toilet once more. She waited for the fluid to stop flowing so freely before tugging up her pants and rinsing her hands with soap and hot water. Her belly was heavy with the baby, her thighs and lower back already aching with early labor.

She walked carefully back to the theater, arduously climbed the steps to their seats and, inexplicably, lowered herself into the seat beside his. His hand found hers immediately, squeezed, though his eyes didn’t leave the screen.

“Scott,” she whispered his name, heard his soft grunt of recognition. “I think we need to go.” 

He continued to watch the screen, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, gaze never bothering to stray from the film. 

“Aw, Tess, I wanna see how the movie ends.” 

An explosion occurred on screen, and she saw the reflection from the light in his eyes. She glanced toward the screen before looking back to him. 

“No, Scott, we really need to go. I just…” she searched for her words, tugging gently on his hand, “I thought I had to pee, and I-”

“Go pee,” he encouraged, oblivious to her. 

“No it’s not that I need to pee,” she said, her voice daring to rise in volume. She was mindful of the others near them, desperate not to draw attention to herself. “It’s… my water broke.” 

“Oh,” he glanced toward her just briefly, his mind still focused on the film. “That’s okay, Tess. I’ll fix it when we get home.” 

What she suddenly recognized as a contraction seized her, and she swore, her voice suddenly shrill. 

“Scott, damnit, look at me!” 

He blinked, breaking the trance, turning to face her. He seemed to notice the desperation in her face, his lips parting, his eyes going wide with concern. 

“Tess, what’s wrong?” 

She attempted to steady her breathing, felt her heart rate increase as he sat looking at her so stupidly. She wanted to grab him and shake him, twist his insides until he felt what she was feeling. He sat upright quickly, his fingertips brushing her arms. 

“Are you okay?” 

“My water,” she hissed between breaths, “it broke. I need to go to the hospital.” 

He sat for another brief moment, her words registering. In an instant, he was out of his seat, clutching her and nearly dragging her along with him. She attempted to keep up, the cramps developing in her lower back and thighs keeping her from racing alongside him. He realized at once that she had fallen behind and lifted her, just as easily as he had all those years on the ice, feet rushing both of them toward the exit of the theater. 

They reached the car in record time, Scott fumbling for the keys and dropping them as Tessa stood beside the passenger door, fingers hesitantly clutching the door handle. She watched as he stooped, scooped them up and unlocked the doors. He helped her into the car, tugged the seatbelt around her before scurrying to the driver’s side door and climbing inside. 

“You’re okay,” he breathed, glancing over at her as he started the car. “You’re okay, right?” 

“I’m okay,” she breathed through her teeth. “I’m fine. Can you just drive, please?” 

Pain gnawed at her lower abdomen, the ache of the cramps stronger than she’d anticipated. She’d done everything she could to prepare for this moment, had drawn from her experience with pain she’d endured after hours on the ice, the way her shins had ached so badly for months, years, and she’d skated through the pain. Now, the pain that tore through her abdomen felt as if she were being ripped open. It was as if she could feel her hips stretching to make room for the baby’s exit, her muscles readjusting themselves as their child made her way into the birth canal. 

They made it to the hospital quickly, Tessa’s fingertips going white with the force of her grasp against the door handle and Scott’s fingers. When he pulled into a spot just in front of the hospital, she hesitated for a moment before swinging the car door open. She met his eyes in a moment of vulnerability, but before she could speak he was out of the car and moving to her door, unbuckling her seat belt and helping her slide her feet onto the pavement. 

She shuffled a few feet, feeling weak and pathetic at the way the pain slowed her. She was stronger than this, hadn’t expected or wanted anyone to have to cart her in a wheelchair down the hallways of the hospital, had never intended on having help like this when she’d delivered. She’d wanted it to be on her own terms, wanted to do this naturally and without pain medication. She still wanted to, despised the idea of the nurses slipping that long, thin needle into her spine and leaving her a drugged-out mess as they welcomed their baby into the world. 

It wasn’t until they’d been escorted to a hospital room and Scott was helping Tessa out of her clothes and into a hospital gown that the first full contraction ripped through her lower belly, causing her to cry out desperately, the guttural sound tearing from her throat.

“Tess,” she heard Scott murmur her name worriedly as he worked the gown over her shoulders. When she met his eyes briefly, he looked wrecked. His eyes were dark, his hair mussed. The concern on his face drew some of her strength, and she groaned, clenched her teeth and tore her eyes away from him. She needed to reserve her strength for the delivery, needed to focus on pushing this baby out of her, couldn’t be distracted by Scott’s worried eyes. “Maybe you should get the epidural.” 

His words ignited a rage within her and she turned to him, hissing. 

“Maybe you should get a needle shoved into your spine,” she spat the words at him. “And tell me how you like that.”

“Tessa,” he said her name again, and she could hear the hurt in his voice even through the wave of agony that rolled over her. “I think the pain medication would really help.” 

His voice was maddeningly calm, and she suddenly wanted him to feel the pain she was experiencing. She wanted him to feel his insides splitting, feel the impossible pressure between his own legs. 

A nurse approached them, her dark eyes directed first at Scott, then Tessa. She was the nurse who had greeted them upon arrival, writing her name in a precise hand with a smiley face positioned adjacent to it: _Amanda :)_. 

“Tessa, the doctor wanted me to make sure you know that there’s a very limited amount of time to administer the epidural. You’re dilating quickly, and it takes around twenty minutes to take effect. If you wait too long, there may not be time for the medicine to dull much of the pain.” 

Her voice was quiet and low, and in the forefront of her mind, Tessa knew that she was simply trying to help. She’d likely seen many women in this exact situation, reluctant and refusing to indulge in the one thing that could dull some of the pain that ravaged her aching body. Still, it didn’t make a difference to her. She felt the same anger building within her as with Scott, frustrated at the idea that everyone wanted to numb her to this pain. 

“Oh, fuck off, Amanda,” Tessa scowled, threw her head back and screamed. 

“I’m sorry, she didn’t mean that,” Scott addressed the nurse quickly, shaking his head, moving to place his hand over Tessa’s. She shook him off, keening. “She’d never say that in her right mind. She’s just… she’s in a lot of pain.” 

The nurse shrugged, unperturbed. She offered Scott a tiny smile. 

“You tell me if she changes her mind, eh?” She slipped out of the room. Scott glanced toward Tessa, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“T,” his voice was steady, and she let her head fall back, tears pricking the corners of her eyes before rolling in fat, hot drops down the sides of her face. “You can get the epidural. You don’t have to do this on your own.” 

A wave of desperation broke through the anger and pain and she took a breath, a great heaving sob. Immediately, Scott was beside her, cradling her in his arms and shushing her as if she hadn’t just metaphorically bitten off his head. His touch was so comforting, so selfless and full of love that she felt herself breaking down, allowing herself to melt into his embrace. 

“You don’t have anything to prove,” he stroked her face, kissed her tear-stained cheeks. “No one is judging you. You need to do what’s best for yourself, whatever that is.” 

She shook her head, pulling away from him despite the fact that all she wanted now was to be in bed with him, curled in his arms. The tears were hot and stained her cheeks. 

“I should be stronger than this,” she sobbed, hissing in a breath as a sharp pain seized her abdomen. “I don’t want to deliver our baby in a drugged-induced haze.” She felt the panic rising in her chest, tried to breath, focus on the beat of her heart and the steady timing of her contractions. 

“Baby,” he kissed her cheeks again, brushed his hands over her dark hair, pulled into a messy bun. “You’ve proven to me and everyone else just how strong you are. And our baby, Evie… she’s going to know how incredibly fearless her mama is. I’m going to make damn sure of that.”

Tessa’s eyes rolled toward him, watched him as he stroked her cheek, held her hand. He was her rock, the sturdiest shelter she’d ever known. He was her buoy in the incredibly tumultuous sea. 

“I’m scared,” she admitted softly, her voice barely a whisper. The contraction rippled through her and there was an undeniable pressure between her thighs. The thought of the baby’s head emerging filled her with a sense of urgency she’d never known, and Scott was right there beside her. 

“I know you are,” he responded, his voice incredibly gentle. “But I’m here. I’m here for you and our baby, Tess. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She felt another tear slip down her cheek, used her shoulder to wipe it away. Her fingers gripped his, whitening at the tips as she held onto him. 

“I can do this,” she said, though it was more of a question than a statement. She looked up to him for reassurance, watched his face soften.

“Of course you can do this,” the corners of his lips turned up into a smile. “How many times have I told you that you’re the strongest person I know?” He dipped his head, placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles as she gripped him. “But you don’t have to do it alone, okay? And you don’t have to do it without pain medicine.” 

She watched as he settled on the edge of the hospital bed, his thumbs stroking her hands. 

“My mom should be here,” Tessa whimpered suddenly, dropping her eyes. She felt ashamed suddenly, that she’d been reduced to this ball of emotion, sniveling and weak. She hated that she suddenly ached for her mother, wanted her and Scott to flank her as she delivered the baby, wanted to be pampered and protected. “I need my mom.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, eyes focused solely on her. “Yes, T, of course. I’ll call her.” He hesitated for a moment even after she allowed him to pull away, releasing his hands. He picked up his phone, navigated to the phone book and touched the screen, smiling gently at her as she heard the phone begin to ring. 

She tried to catch her breath as she heard him speak, low and soft. He turned away from her, held one hand over his other ear as he spoke to her mother. She watched him, frowning, and he turned to face her, an easy smile on his face. 

“She wants to talk to you,” he offered her the phone, and she took it with trembling hands, just as another contraction seized her abdomen. Tessa held the phone to her ear, her other hand rubbing wide arcs over her belly. 

“Tess?” Her mother’s voice broke something inside her, and when Tessa opened her mouth to speak, she began to sob. Her shoulders heaved and she trembled, Scott settling beside her, his hand tracing concentric circles on her back. 

“Mom,” she took a shuddering breath, dropping her head into her hands. “Mom, are you coming?” 

“I’m coming, honey,” she responded, and Tessa could hear her moving through her house, recognized the jangle of her keys. “What’s this Scott’s telling me about you refusing the epidural, Tess?”

Tessa took a shallow breath, shaking her head, wiping at her face. 

“I can’t do it, Mom,” she shuddered, arching with the pain of her contraction. “I just…” she hissed through her clenched teeth, “I have to do this myself.” 

She heard her mother sigh, heard the sound of the car ignition turning over in the background.

“Tessa, sometimes you’re too determined for your own good.” Tessa clutched the phone, wishing it was her mother’s hand, and then glancing up at Scott, who was still watching her with quiet resignation. “Listen to me, Tess. You’re about to be a mother, and mothers always know best.” She took a quiet breath, and Tessa could imagine the phone pressed to her mother’s ear as she idled the car in the driveway. “Get the epidural, Tessa.” 

Tessa took a breath, nodded, and handed the phone back to Scott. She watched as he thanked her and disconnected the call. He seemed to hesitate in looking toward her, and when he finally met her eyes, her mouth was dry, her fingers clutching the bedrails. 

“Okay,” Tessa nodded, feeling breathless. “Scott, get the nurse. I want the epidural.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day has arrived! Trigger warning for a not-at-all graphic description of birth unless you're offended by the color red.

Scott’s fingers curled within Tessa’s as she exhaled, breath blowing between her parted lips. He watched her, eyebrows furrowing with concern as she tossed her head back, dark hair sticking to her forehead in clumps. Her fingers tightened around his, squeezing so forcefully that her fingertips turned white with the pressure. 

“Breathe, Tess,” he guided her, trying desperately to remember any of the mantras they’d learned at the Lamaze class. His mind was firing with a jumble of words, and he couldn’t think of anything that would help Tessa through this moment. He wanted to encourage her, reassure her, make her feel safe and know that the moment would pass, but he found himself helpless. 

“I’m breathing,” she hissed at him, clenching his hand again. Tessa groaned, gritting her teeth. He reached out to her, stroked her dark hair and pressed a kiss against her forehead, slick with sweat. Even as the cry of pain slipped through her bared teeth, she shrugged away from him. It surprised him for a moment, the way she avoided his affection, but she let out a ragged breath and sobbed. 

“You’re never touching me again,” she swore at him, though there was no edge in her voice. She was suitably numb due to the epidural, and the way only her upper body moved as she shifted in the bed assured him of this fact. Her chest heaved with each breath, eyes closing as she grimaced with the force of her contractions. 

“To be fair, I didn’t touch you this time either,” he teased, but was immediately silenced by the narrowed gaze she shot him. She panted, twisted her upper body as she let out a frustrated groan. 

“Okay, Tessa,” the doctor peered up at them from beneath her parted legs, securing her feet into the stirrups before patting her inner thigh reassuringly. “You’re ten centimeters dilated. You’re going to have to start actively pushing now, okay?” 

Scott heard her whimper, watched as she nodded her head, following his directions. He heard the sharp intake of her breath, felt his heart begin to race in his chest. He wanted to take this pain away from her, wanted to be able to do more than stand beside her and watch as she delivered their baby. It was nearly intolerable to feel so useless. He glanced toward her, watched her chest rise and fall rapidly with the onset of panic. 

“Scott, I’m not ready. I don’t know if I can…” her voice faded, breaking with the weight of tears that had begun to blur her vision. 

“You are ready,” he encouraged her, “You can do this, Tess. You can do anything. You’ve proven that so many times, baby.”

Tessa grunted, her agony evident in the sound. His heart ached for her. He reached out to her once more, and this time she didn’t pull away. 

“Tessa, look at me,” he directed her, and immediately her eyes rose to meet his. He caressed her trembling jaw, the pads of his fingertips brushing the sharp bone. “If anyone can do this, it’s you.” 

He kept her gaze for a moment longer, feeling a wave of distress wash over him as her body shuddered with a contraction. Her dry lips parted, her parched tongue swiping over them before she nodded, the fingers of one hand curling tightly around the bed railing. 

“I’m right here,” he breathed the words to her, made a soft shushing sound as she ground her teeth and began to push. Her body went rigid and he could see the muscles in her neck and chest straining as he studied her face, eyebrows drawn up with concern. 

“Very good, Tessa, the baby’s beginning to crown. Take a breath and then push once more.” The doctor’s voice floated from between her thighs, and suddenly Tessa looked up at him, eyes desperate. 

“Scott,” she whispered his name, and her voice was hoarse. He was already looking at her, already willing to do anything she asked of him. He’d walk across fire, take a bullet to the brain, anything to make this easier for her. Anything to give her even the slightest bit of comfort. “Please look. I want you to describe it to me.” 

She gasped for a breath and then held it as she bared down once more, forcing her muscles into rigidity as she forced her body to move the baby through the birth canal. Scott stood watching her silently for a moment, her fingers already slipping from his as she continued to push. He hesitated. He should be here with her, he rationalized. He should be holding her hand, studying her face, but… 

“Please,” she said at the end of a breath, and he glanced toward her open legs, watched the doctor’s head bob between them as he instructed her to push again. And then he was moving away from her head, taking the few short steps to stand behind the doctor, his eyes falling between her thighs. 

She was red and open and there was blood and something dark and it took him a moment to realize it. The unbelievably large, dark oval was the top of the baby’s head, and it was crowning. It was pulling her apart, stretching her impossibly, and he suddenly felt queasy at the sight. It wasn’t necessarily the blood, wasn’t the graphic nature of the scene itself, but rather the way the baby caused Tessa’s body to contort so painfully. It was hard, watching this, seeing her in such undeniable discomfort. He’d seen her through so many injuries, had massaged her shins and helped her apply ice, but it had never been to this extreme. He had never watched her body split apart, and it was enough to make him weak in the knees. 

Immediately, he felt guilty. Who was he to say this was too much, to not be able to stomach the sight of Tessa delivering their baby into the world when it was her body that was doing all of the work? He was merely a bystander, watching as she forced her body to stretch to the point of disbelief, and here he was, uncomfortable by the scene laid out before him. 

“Oh God,” he heard himself breathe, “there’s her head, Tess.” 

He barely realized he was speaking, suddenly overtaken by the sight of their child entering the world. He felt a wave of nausea roll over him, his head spinning as it overtook him. He stammered, considered backing away. 

“Maybe I should stand up there by your head…” he murmured the words, unable to tear his eyes away from the dark hair that covered the baby’s scalp. He began to move toward her, and she reached for him, tears slipping down her face as she shook her head fervently. 

“No! No, Scott, please,” she begged him, stopping him in his tracks. “Please tell me. Tell me what she looks like.” 

He paused and then allowed his eyes to focus between her thighs once more. 

“She’s… she’s got dark hair,” he told her, shaking his head. “She’s… oh, Tess, I see her face.” 

There was nothing he could say to describe her, no words to tell Tessa how beautiful she was, despite the fact that she was wrinkled and swollen from her journey through the birth canal. Her eyes were closed for just a moment, and then, as if surprised, slowly opened, her eyelashes fluttering as her head fully emerged from Tessa. He heard a whimper, and thought for a moment it was the baby, and then realized it had come from him. 

“Oh my God,” he breathed, and he heard Tessa sob, saw from the corner of his eye as her head fell back against the pillow. 

“Scott,” she wept his name, “Can you see her? Does our little girl look okay?” 

He heard her words but found himself unable to answer her for what felt like a long moment but in reality may only have been a matter of seconds. He couldn’t find his breath, couldn’t keep his thoughts straight, and finally, when her questions registered in the forefront of his mind, he took a quiet, gasping breath. 

“She’s so beautiful, Tessa. God she’s so beautiful, just like you.” 

He heard her sob again, watched for a moment as he waited for the baby to fully emerge, wanted to watch the rest of her slip from her mother and into the world, but he heard a sudden, painful sound from Tessa and immediately his eyes were torn from their child. There was discomfort etched onto her face, her eyebrows knotted together in agony as her lips parted and a pained groan escaped her. 

“Tess?” He asked, immediately moving toward her, taking her into his arms, turning her face up to his. “Tessa, what’s wrong?” 

“She’s passing the shoulders,” the doctor announced, “it’s the widest part of your baby’s body. Tessa, I need you to give me one or two more good pushes, okay? You’re nearly there.” 

“You hear that, babe?” He brushed her hair from her face, pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “You’re almost done. You just have to work a little bit more and then you can rest. You can do this, Tess. You’re so amazing. You’re so amazing, baby.” 

She found his hands, her fingers curling desperately around his, tightening until her grip was painful. She gave a loud cry, bared her teeth and pushed. It was a long few seconds and then, suddenly, she fell back against the bed. 

The baby took a deep, shuddering breath, and then began to scream. 

He didn’t want to look away from the baby, so pink and raw and new. He never wanted to stop looking at her, knew he could study her for the rest of his life and still find new things to love about her, but he so desperately wanted to see Tessa’s face when she saw their child for the first time. 

The doctor’s sturdy hands raised the squirming baby as she twisted and writhed in his grasp. Though his face was hidden behind a surgical mask, it was easy to see the smile that wrinkled his eyes as he presented the newborn to them. 

“Congratulations, your daughter is beautiful,” he announced, and Scott drew his eyes toward Tessa as she saw the baby for the first time. Her green eyes went wide, her lips parting with a whimper. 

“Oh my God,” he heard her breathe, and then she was attempting to sit up, her arms reaching desperately for the newborn. “Oh my God, my baby.” 

It was impossible to read the range of emotions on her face, but he could see the shock, the disbelief of seeing their daughter for the first time. He felt like sobbing, breaking down into tears and clutching Tessa in one arm and the baby in the other. It was surreal, and though the look of love and joy on her face was nearly impossible to glance away from, he felt the pull to look back toward the baby, whose shrill cries filled the room. 

“Please let me hold her,” Tessa begged, her fingers stretching to touch their daughter, “Please.” 

The doctor moved carefully, supporting the screaming newborn. She was coated in a mixture of blood and afterbirth, her dark hair matted to her scalp, but Tessa didn’t hesitate when the doctor placed her carefully in her embrace. Immediately, she was tugging down the top of her hospital gown, cradling their baby in her arms and pressing her against the warm skin on her chest. 

“Oh my God,” she repeated, her words barely a whisper. “Oh, God, you’re finally here.” 

Scott held his breath, watching the moment. He wanted to say something, maybe comment on how beautiful she was once more, maybe thank Tessa for making him a father, but he couldn’t find any words to express the way he felt. He could only stare, only focus on his heartbeat and his breath and on the way Tessa held their daughter like she’d been made to be a mother. 

“Look at you,” she whispered, tears now streaming freely down her cheeks, a fingertip tracing the baby’s arms and legs, curling around her impossibly tiny fingers and toes. “Look at how perfect you are.” 

“Do you want to cut her umbilical cord?” The question came from a nurse who was suddenly standing behind Scott, and he turned to face her, eyeing the pair of surgical scissors she offered him. 

“Oh, I don’t…” he shook his head, glanced frantically back at Tessa, but her gaze was focused solely on the baby, talking to her in a low, hushed voice. The baby had fallen silent and was blinking up at Tessa, her large eyes watching every move her mother made. Scott looked back to the nurse. “I don’t know if I can.” 

“Of course you can,” the nurse encouraged him with a smile. “You won’t hurt her.” 

Scott glanced down at the scissors once more before accepting them with a trembling hand. The movement must have caught Tessa’s eyes, because she glanced up, noticed the scissors in Scott’s hand, and pressed her lips together in a tight smile. Her grip on the baby didn’t loosen and she used one hand to cup the back of the baby’s head, pressing her to her breast. 

“You can do it, Scott,” she encouraged him, her voice soft. “Don’t be nervous.” 

Jesus, she was already a natural at this. Already holding him together when he was beginning to fall apart. He raised his shaky hand, gripping the scissors firmly. The nurse grasped a length of the thick cord and Scott positioned the steel blades. He couldn’t stand the thought of the baby being attached to this veiny rope, the idea that somehow severing it might bring harm, either imagined or real, to their new daughter. 

He closed his eyes, preparing to cut, and Tessa’s voice called out to him. 

“Scott!” She chided him, and his eyes flew open. Her eyes were wide and disbelieving, but she smiled at him. “You have to look. You’re not going to hurt her.”

He kept her eyes for a long moment, and then let his gaze drop to the infant who now slept in her arms. 

“You can do this,” she encouraged him gently. 

He nodded, let his eyes fall to the scissors in his hand, and closed the sharp blades, severing the cord. He took a quiet breath before handing the scissors back to the nurse and moving closer to Tessa and the baby. She watched him for another moment before returning her gaze to their daughter. 

Neither of them spoke for a long moment, both of them captivated by the sight of the child asleep in her arms. 

“You’ll need to deliver the placenta,” the doctor informed her, his voice breaking their reverie. “The nurses will clean the baby up and weigh her and then we’ll get her back to you.” The nurse moved toward Tessa, and Scott watched as she hesitantly released the baby, eyes longingly tracking the child as she was weighed and measured, wiped down with a warm towel. 

Scott took advantage of the moment to tend to Tessa, stroking her hair and murmuring to her as she delivered the afterbirth. It was over in a matter of moments and then the baby was diapered and laid once more on Tessa’s chest. Her skin was pink and clean, unbelievably soft as he traced a finger over her tiny cheek. 

He sank into a chair beside her bed, leaned forward and pressed his lips to Tessa’s. She kissed him back gently, only leaned away when he pulled back. He took in Tessa’s face, the tear streaks and sweat beginning to dry on her cheeks. Her skin was flushed, pink and perfect and so completely, utterly beautiful. 

“Hey, you,” he addressed the baby when he settled back into his seat, working his finger into her tiny, curled fists. “It’s Daddy. Do you remember my voice?” 

“Of course she remembers your voice,” Tessa smiled, speaking quietly. “You’ve been here since before she even formed.” She lowered her gaze, stroked the baby’s cheek. “Mommy’s known Daddy her entire life. Since before I can even remember. Your daddy is my best friend, among other things.” 

As if the baby understood, her eyes fluttered open slowly, blinking first at Tessa and then at Scott. At the way his daughter’s eyes met his, he felt a rush of love so undeniably powerful that it took his breath away and for a moment he could do nothing but observe the scene before him. 

“My mom,” Tessa spoke suddenly, never glancing away from the baby in her arms. “She needs to see her. She needs to know she’s here, and Jordan too. Can you go get them, please?” 

It was the last thing he wanted to do, to leave Tessa and the baby even for a moment, but he knew how important this was to her. She was right, her family needed to know, and so did his. He thought of the look that would be on his mother’s face when he told her that her granddaughter had arrived, the way she would cry when she held her for the first time, and he nodded, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tessa’s forehead. 

“I’ll be right back,” he advised her, and then, to the baby in her arms, “don’t do anything cute while I’m gone, you hear me?” 

Tessa grinned up at him and he hesitated for another moment before dragging himself from the room. When he returned no more than five minutes later, and as they waited for their families to join them in the room, he noticed the tiny bracelet that had been secured around the newborn’s wrist. 

Tessa glanced up at him as he reached out, took the baby’s tiny hand in his and studied the plastic band. It listed today’s date, her birthday, and then below that, three words that took his breath away. 

_Evangeline Virtue-Moir._

He felt his jaw drop, glanced up at Tessa, saw her watching him. 

“You’re her father,” she smiled, dimples pressing into her cheeks. “She’s just as much a part of you as she is me. She deserves to have your name, too.”

He couldn’t find the words to say, couldn’t think of anything except kissing her in that moment, but she was still talking, looking back and forth between him and Evie, who had already latched onto her breast. 

“I couldn’t decide on a middle name,” she continued, offering him a tiny smile. “But they said I didn’t have to come up with one until we signed her birth certificate. They’re coming by with the papers in a little bit, I didn’t want you to think that you can’t sign it, especially because of the slightly unconventional way she was created. I know that we-”

She was rambling now; talking and filling the silence because he hadn’t yet said anything, and maybe she was afraid she’d upset him. He knew her well enough, knew that she’d likely perceived some miniscule fault in her actions and was attempting to appease him. 

“Tessa,” he interrupted her, and she fell silent, wide green eyes looking up at him. “Marry me.” 

She blinked, her dark eyebrows furrowing slightly. 

“What?”

“You heard me,” he responded, “I told you I got the ring. I told you I wanted it to be special. And I can’t think of any moment that could ever possibly be more special than this, Tess, and I want you to marry me.”

He didn’t know what to expect, her mind and body reeling with the delivery of their baby, her hormones rampaging. He didn’t know whether she might laugh or cry, and to his pleasant surprise, a moment later, she did both. 

She held Evie closer to her chest, studied her for a long moment, and then glanced back up at him. 

“Yes,” she exhaled the word, “of course I’ll marry you, Scott.” 

He didn’t say anything, but leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. 

“Hold her,” Tessa urged him a moment later, as the baby turned her face away from Tessa’s breast. “Hold our daughter.” 

She leaned forward, slid her into his arms, and he curled her into a gentle embrace. He had waited so long for this moment; nine months, of course, but decades before that. All of the times he’d held Tessa in his arms on and off the ice, all of the times she’d met his eyes and he’d wondered what it might be like to have a family with her. He’d spent so many years thinking about this moment, never dreaming that it would one day become a reality. 

But suddenly, Tessa was mommy, and he was daddy, and his dream had come true. 

By the time their families entered the hospital room, he was wiping the tears of joy from his face.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluffy goodness never hurt anyone :)

Tessa had heard it said that time would go by quickly once she was a mother, that one day would turn into the next and before she knew it her daughter would be crawling, then talking and walking. In the blink of an eye, she’d graduate high school and go away to college, and that may have been true once the fatigue of new motherhood wore off. In the meantime, there were sleepless nights that both she and the baby were in tears, Scott the only rational one of the three of them as he rubbed Tessa’s back, stroked her hair, held her in restless fits of sleeplessness. 

Scott was there for every moment, awake and asleep. She didn’t know how he was managing, his hair constantly mussed and his eyes red-rimmed with lack of sleep, but always smiling. Whether he was looking at her or their baby, she could see the contentedness lurking just beneath the curves of his lips. When she cried, struggled with getting Evie to latch onto her breast a few days after they’d come home from the hospital, he’d talked her through it, supporting the baby’s head and speaking to both of them gently, encouraging both of them to be patient and try _just one more time_ , despite Tessa's apparent readiness to resort to formula. And of course, because Scott was the voice of reason, it worked. Evie’s tiny lips found Tessa’s nipple and she suckled until she turned her head away, sated and sinking into a milk coma.

It was just one of the many times over the first three weeks home with Evie that Tessa found unbelievable comfort in Scott’s unwavering support. She wanted to be there for every moment with him and their baby, wanted to capture every breath in her memory, to be able to remember exactly the way it felt when she nestled against her chest or curled her tiny fingers around Tessa’s own. She wanted to remember every soft sound Evie made in her sleep, the way her bright eyes focused on her like she was sometimes unable to look away from the woman who had carried her in her womb for nine months. 

Of course, Scott was amazing with her. He had endless patience for both of them, even singing and cooing to her as he changed Evie’s diaper. He relished his role as a father, cradling the baby’s tiny head and reading to her from issues of Sportsnet Magazine, rattling off hockey statistics as if they were nursery rhymes, shifting her in his arms to show her each photograph and explaining to her the players’ histories and averages.

Tessa stood in the doorway of her nursery, watching as he rocked her in the sturdy white glider and rolling her eyes playfully when Evie had started to fuss after Scott had read an article about the Montreal Canadiens. 

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, stroking her tiny head. Her hair had grown a shade lighter since her birth, light brown and downy soft. “Daddy doesn’t like the Canadiens, either. We only support the Maple Leafs, don’t we, baby girl?” 

“Yes, Scott,” Tessa mused at him, her delicate fingertips brushing the white wood of the doorway. “I’m sure our three week old is very concerned with NHL rivalries.” There was a slight edge to her voice, but she knew he could see through it, hoped that he understood her gentle teasing was unspoken gratitude. Not just for stepping up and assuming the role of father, but for being Evie’s daddy. It was gratitude for dragging himself out of bed and retrieving Evie from her crib in the middle of the night in order for Tessa to breastfeed. More gratitude that she’d ever be able to express to him. 

“She will,” he grinned up at her, “I can’t wait to take her to her first game. You think one month is too young?”

Tessa sighed, crossed the room and perched on the armrest of the glider. Her arm slid around Scott’s shoulders, smiling down at the baby in his arms. Evie blinked sleepily, her tiny lips forming a perfect O as she yawned.

“I know you’re excited to take her to her first hockey game,” Tessa appeased him, “but, yes, babe, I think one month is too young. It’s so loud and rowdy in those arenas. And cold.” She traced a finger over Evie’s impossibly soft cheek. “I’m afraid it will be a while before there’s any hockey in Evie’s future.” 

She saw the way his shoulders slumped slightly, felt her heart clench at the disappointment on his face. A moment later, however, he nodded and bounced Evie gently in his arms, leaning down to brush a kiss over her head. 

“You’re right,” he acknowledged after a moment, “she’s too young. But once she’s old enough, we’re going to be sitting our butts in that loud, cold arena for every game, aren’t we, sweet girl?”

Tessa laughed, pressed a kiss against Scott’s shoulder. 

“I don’t doubt that,” she murmured, smiling to herself at the idea of Scott and Evie pressed together in the icy arena, wrapped from head to toe in clothing decorated with Maple Leafs branding. “She’s going to love that.” 

Of course there was no guarantee that Evie would love hockey, ice dancing, or even sports for that matter, but the idea of spending so much time with her father, watching the excitement and joy in his eyes with each swing of the hockey stick, there was no doubt in Tessa’s mind that she would cherish every moment. 

“Are you okay if I go shower?” She wondered, knowing it was a silly question. She could go away for days or weeks, and as long as she left Scott with an abundance of breast milk, they wouldn’t even notice her absence. The thought made her feel jealous sometimes, watching the bond between them, but she knew it was simply a mixture of exhaustion and postpartum hormones that left her feeling this way. If she knew Scott (and she did, after two-and-a-half decades together) she knew that he’d never intend for her to feel excluded in any way; parenthood simply came naturally to him.

“Yeah, of course,” he looked up to Tessa now, caught her lips in a gentle kiss. “Enjoy yourself. Take a warm bath, babe.” 

She watched him for a moment, nodded, and then pressed another kiss to his cheek. 

“Okay. Yell for me if you need me. Or if Evie needs to eat. Or if she starts crying and won’t stop. Or, you know, she’s been doing that little hiccup thing, and I don’t want-”

“Tess,” he said her name evenly, reaching for her with one hand, catching her fingers. “She’s fine. We’re fine. Go run your bath and stay in there as long as you want, okay? You need some rest.” 

She hesitated, chewing on her lower lip for a moment before reluctantly breaking away from him and making her way toward the washroom. She collected her white robe along the way, slipping out of her clothes and purposefully avoiding the full-length mirror as she passed it. She was only three weeks postpartum, and though she’d already returned to a light work-out regimen, it was difficult and nearly impossible to do many of the strenuous exercises she’d been used to prior to pregnancy. Her belly was soft and marred by a few light stretch marks despite the efforts she’d taken to prevent them. Her body was unfamiliar, almost alien to her, but the effect of pregnancy on her body hadn’t been all bad. Her breasts, which had been small her entire life, were heavier and larger. They felt foreign on her chest, and sometimes they ached with their fullness, but she’d caught Scott glancing at her several times as she’d changed and would be untruthful in saying that his lust-filled gazes hadn’t ignited something within her.

They hadn’t had sex since Evie’s birth, of course, she’d been told to wait at least six weeks, but she’d tried to please him in other ways. He’d always insisted it wasn’t necessary, happy to use his mouth to carefully explore her sex and bring her pleasure without intercourse. She’d used her hands on him, brought him into her mouth, but had yet to allow him access to her swollen breasts. It was the evidence of childbirth that left her hesitant to undress fully in front of him, the ludicrous fear that somehow, having birthed his baby, there was something less about her. That the stretch marks on her skin would turn him off, cause him to turn away. 

It was this fear that led her to avoid that mirror in the bathroom, that made her focus on the steaming water as it poured into the bathtub and not on the imperfect skin that stretched across her thin frame. She slid into the tub as it filled, bent her knees and watched the water cascade over the porcelain. Goosebumps rose on her pale skin, her nipples hardening at the warmth into which she sank. She allowed her eyes to close, tried not to think about the fact that Evie would need to eat again soon, that there was a load of her laundry that needed to be put into the dryer, that Scott would, at some point, need to return to coaching. 

She thought of that email he’d received, the one inviting him to come to Montreal for a full-time position. It had been weeks since he’d responded, promised her that he had no intention to go anywhere that required him to travel long distances. Still, as her eyes caught the diamond on her ring finger, she felt guilty at the idea of restricting him. Scott loved coaching, just as she loved the many tasks she’d taken on since their retirement. He’d never asked her to give up her passions, even when her overzealousness had landed her in the hospital with first-trimester spotting. He’d always sat and listened, supported her, believed in her when she didn’t even believe in herself. 

But it was Scott’s choice, wasn’t it? To stay here with her, and with the baby? He’d proposed on his own volition, had slipped that ring onto her finger and promised not to leave. She suddenly felt sick with worry and guilt and closed her eyes, sinking into the warm depths of her bath. 

It was nearly an hour before she emerged, pulling her robe around her and draining the bathtub. Evie would be hungry, and Scott needed some time for himself. She called his name softly as she stepped out of the bathroom, her bare feet padding across her bedroom floor before making her way down the hall to the nursery. She expected to find Scott in the glider, or at least Evie in her crib, but the room was empty. She glanced into the spare bedrooms, and upon finding neither Scott or their daughter, made her way downstairs. 

“Scott?” Her voice was gentle, curious. The kitchen was quiet and dark. There was a soft sound coming from the living room and she followed it, recognizing it when she got close enough as Scott’s snores. She stepped into the living room, studied the scene on the couch. 

Scott was on his back, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep, and Evie was asleep on his chest. Her tiny head was turned, eyelashes fluttering as she slept. Tessa’s instinct was to pick up the baby, to gently remind Scott of the importance of safe sleep and that Evie should only ever sleep on her back in her own crib, but something about the moment made her stop. She stood, admiring the way Scott’s fingers rested protectively on their baby girl’s back; the way, even in sleep, she was his first concern. She watched them both for a long moment, sinking into the chair across from the couch and making every attempt to preserve the moment in her mind. It wasn’t until several moments later that she thought of taking a photograph, and rushed to grab her phone. Nearly as soon as the shutter went off, Scott stirred, blinking awake. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, nearly sitting up before feeling the weight of the baby on his chest and cupping her bottom in reassurance. “Oh. I must have fallen asleep.” 

Tessa grinned, moved toward him and brushed her fingers through his hair. 

“You’re tired,” she mused, “and you’re adorable.” She crouched beside him, touched Evie’s delicate head before looking back at him. “You know, it’s a good thing I’m already in love with you.” 

“Well, yeah,” he grinned sheepishly, his eyes watching her, “but why do you say that?” 

“Because otherwise, seeing you like this would have made me fall head-over-heels. Do you have any idea how cute you are with a baby, Scott Moir?” 

He glanced down at the baby, still asleep on his chest, before beaming up at her. 

“Aw, really? If I’d have known that, I would’ve babysat every kid I’ve known for the past two decades.” 

She chuckled, shook her head and pushed herself to her feet. 

“No, I mean it,” he grinned, “every time I stepped onto the ice, I’d have had a baby strapped to my chest.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughed, louder, and Evie flinched on Scott’s chest. They held their breath, watching as she squeezed her eyes shut tighter, her lips parting as she prepared to cry. She settled a moment later, releasing a quiet sigh. Tessa pressed her lips together in a relieved smile. “That was close. I guess I better-”

Evie suddenly took a great, shuddering breath and began to wail. Tessa sighed, clenching her eyes shut for a moment as the sound reverberated through the room. Scott made a soft cooing sound, his hands going around the baby’s tiny body as she screamed. 

“Oh, what’s wrong?” He cradled her, her body so delicate and tiny in his large hands. “Did Mommy’s loud laugh wake you up? You better get used to that, kiddo. For some reason, even after twenty-five years, your old man is still hilarious.” 

He dipped his head, pressed a gentle kiss to the baby’s forehead, shifting the wailing newborn in his arms. 

“Here,” Tessa offered, reaching for her, taking the baby into her arms. “I’ll take her. You’ve had her for a few hours. It’s your turn to relax.” 

“Tess…” he appeared hesitant for a moment, the corners of his lips turning into a slight frown. “Okay. I’ve got a couple phone calls to make and then I could shower…” 

“Fine,” Tessa smiled at him, hoisting Evie onto her shoulder and patting her bottom. “I’ll feed her and get her ready for bed.” 

He pushed himself to his feet before doubling back, leaning down to catch Tessa’s lips in a gentle kiss. 

“I love you. You’re an amazing mom. I don’t tell you that enough.” 

Tessa felt the flush rise in her cheeks, shrugged nonchalantly. 

“It doesn’t feel the way sometimes.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, lines creasing the corners of his dark eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Her lips parted, tongue darting out to run along the ridge of her lower lip. 

“It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” 

The look in his eyes told her that he didn’t believe her, that he knew she was simply trying to talk her way out of having another difficult conversation, and normally he would have settled onto the couch beside her, slid his arm around her and encouraged her to discuss her feelings. 

Maybe it was the fatigue that lingered between them, the fact that between the two of them, they’d averaged four hours of sleep per night for the past three weeks. Maybe it was the fact that Scott knew her better than she realized, that he’d finally learned to stop pushing when she wasn’t interested in divulging. Maybe it was a mixture of the two, but Scott simply nodded, case her a sideways glance and then moved toward the stairs. 

Tessa watched him go, bouncing the baby gently in her arms, shushing and coddling her. 

“Evie, my sweet girl, shh,” she patted her bottom as she climbed the stairs, passing the en suite as the water from Scott’s shower flowed through the pipes. They made their way down the hall to the nursery, Tessa settling into the glider and parting her robe, guiding Evie to her breast. 

The baby was restless and squirmed in her arms, her gummy mouth opening with each wail, turning her head away from Tessa’s offering. She held her with one arm, helped guide her head toward her breast, speaking in the same soft tone Scott used with the baby. Using one hand to hold her breast, she brought it to Evie’s lips and tensed, waiting for one long moment and then another until Evie found her nipple and began to feed. 

She released a breath, relaxed into the glider and cradled her as she ate. She traced a finger gently over her cheek, breathing in the fresh powder smell of her skin and hair. She had, just as she’d expected, fallen desperately in love with Evie since the first moment she’d seen her. Each day with her was a gift, waking up to her tiny face, eyes bright and ready to take on each day. She was an inspiration to Tessa herself, reassurance when she wasn’t sure she could take another day of sleeplessness and endless vigilance. 

Evie ate for ten minutes, greedily swallowing what Tessa could offer her, and when she pulled away she yawned. Tessa grinned down at her, moved to the changing table and spoke gently to her as she gently removed her onesie and soiled diaper. She kept her voice high and light as she changed her despite the fact that Evie had begun to cry again, her tiny pink body exposed to the air as Tessa slid a new diaper onto her and buttoned her into a set of pink pajamas. She moved back to the chair, shushing and talking her through the tears, even as Tessa’s own eyes began to burn with helplessness.

“Evie, Mommy doesn’t know what to do for you,” her voice broke and she hated the feeling of powerlessness that overwhelmed her at the sight of Evie wailing in her arms. “You’re changed and you’re fed. You’re sleepy, sweetheart. You have to sleep. We all have to sleep.”

“Tess?” Scott’s head appeared around the doorway, his dark hair ruffled from its towel drying. He looked serious, concerned. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, taking a shuddering breath before looking back down at their daughter. She saw Scott step into the room, clad in a pair of black shorts and a white t-shirt. He smelled like soap and shampoo and, somehow, still Scott. Tessa suddenly wanted nothing more than to bury her face in his neck, thrust the baby into his arms and beg him for help. Still, her pride kept her from doing so. 

“It’s fine,” she nodded, though the emotion had crept into her voice and she sniffled as she spoke. “She’s just tired. She needs to sleep.” 

“I know,” Scott soothed her, moving to cross the room toward her. “I know she does. And I know you do. I know how tired you are. Let me put her to bed. You can-”

“No,” Tessa’s voice was unexpectedly sharp as she clutched Evie to her chest. The suddenness of it cause Evie to shriek, her cries growing louder in the otherwise silent room. “I have to do this.” She said the words more to herself than to Scott, determined. “I’m her mother. I have to be able to calm her.” 

“Babe, you can calm her,” his voice stayed low, even beneath Evie’s sharp cries. “You’re just tired. You’re frustrated and you’re upset. You’re emotional, Tess. You’ve got to take a breath and remember that she’s not doing this to hurt your feelings.” 

He was right, she knew, but it didn’t stop the tears from flowing. They dripped down her cheeks and onto her white robe, plopping on the top of Evie’s head like raindrops. She sucked her breath in, ran a gentle hand over her soft hair and bit her lip.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted after a moment, her green eyes raising to meet Scott’s. “God, I love her so much, but sometimes I don’t know what to do.”

“Tess.” The word was filled with so much love that she instantly felt eased by it, knew in that moment that Scott would guide her through this. She knew that they were a team in parenthood, just as they always had been in skating. He was her support, her unequivocal partner, and that she needed to be able to lean on him throughout this. It wasn’t a game of wills or a contest to determine who was more prideful. It was their relationship, their daughter’s life. She needed to trust him. 

“What do I do?” She asked, and though it felt like she’d given up, she knew it was a new beginning. 

He blinked, surprised by her sudden submittal. He hesitated for only a moment, then shrugged. 

“Try singing to her.” 

Tessa looked up at him, startled. 

“What?” 

“Sing to her,” he repeated, raising his voice just enough to be heard over her shrill cries. “Sometimes that’s what I do. It helps.” 

“Scott,” Tessa’s desperate reply came, “I can’t sing.”

“You can,” he encouraged her, crouching in front of her, meeting her worried eyes. “She’s three weeks old, Tess. She’s not going to judge you. She wants to hear your voice, wants to be comforted by you, baby. You’re her mommy.”

Tessa registered his words, looked down at Evie, her tiny face bright pink, her little tongue quivering in her mouth as she screamed. She could feel her own heart racing, knew that it was silly to be this reluctant to sing to her own baby, even in front of Scott who had sat through many sessions of karaoke in the car as they’d traveled between borders in their early days of competition. 

Slowly, hesitantly, she began to sing. Her voice cracked, and she nearly quieted, but instead rose into a gentle pitch. It was a song her mother had sung to her as a child, one that had always comforted and calmed her when she’d been sick or scared. She didn’t expect it to work, expected Evie to continue crying or even cry harder at the quiet shrillness in her voice, her inability to carry a tune in a bucket. 

But, to her amazement, Evie began to quiet. She took several trembling breaths as the crying calmed, blinking up in surprise at her mother’s face. Tessa met her eyes, and despite the quiet embarrassment that had overtaken her, she smiled. Evie stared at her, unblinking, as Tessa continued to sing to her. Her voice was soft and even, and she could sense Scott beside her, could see the smile pressing over his lips. 

She continued singing, eventually running out of lyrics and beginning to make up words, grinning at the amazement on Evie’s face. She began to laugh softly, tears once more sliding down her cheeks as she realized with astonishment that she’d done this, that she’d calmed her, entranced her in this way. 

It wasn’t until after Evie had fallen into a restful sleep and they’d placed her in her crib that Tessa turned to Scott, her eyes wet with tears. They were in bed, Scott already tugging down the shoulder of her white robe to press his lips against the skin there. 

“When are you going to realize,” he punctuated his sentence with gentle kisses, “that talking about our problems always solves them so much quicker than pretending they don’t exist?” 

“I know,” Tessa melded into his touch, allowed herself to be consumed by the feel of his lips against her skin. “Sometimes you just have to remind me. That’s why I keep you around.” 

“Oh, is it?” He grinned against her, and she felt her heart race with a building urge to taste his skin. “You mean it’s not because of this?” 

His hands untied the robe of her belt and he slid it open, his mouth pressing gentle kisses down her body until he settled between her legs. Tessa allowed her legs to part, her fingers to tangle in his dark hair. He licked and nipped at her soft center until she was arching against his mouth, crying his name, her thighs tightening around his head. 

“Okay,” she acquiesced as he joined her at the head of the bed once more, her breath coming in desperate pants, “maybe it’s because of that, too.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of filler fluff, because real life is just too much at the moment and we all need an escape.  
> Thank you so much to lapetitemort20 for the sweet idea.   
> I don't own the music or lyrics in this song, but I would highly suggest listening to it either before, after, or during reading.

It amazed him, even now, to hold Evie in his arms. To look down at the tiny pink baby, her wide eyes unblinking as she studied his face. It felt unreal to know that he and Tessa had created her, this perfect culmination of the best of each of them. She felt impossibly tiny and delicate, and even though he knew that Evie was never safer than when she was with Tessa or himself, there was still an anxiety that bubbled within his chest when he held her and cared for her. 

He’d barely been able to convince Tessa to let him take her out for a few hours so she could get some rest. It had been nearly three months since her birth, three months since either of them had slept more than a few hours each night, and while Tessa would never admit it, she desperately needed a break. There were dark circles beneath her eyes that even her MAC makeup couldn’t cover, and though she was still the most stunningly beautiful woman he’d ever seen, the fatigue was wearing on her. 

Still, Scott knew that just as he did, Tessa relished every moment of parenthood. Even in the middle of the night with Evie clutched to her breast, and sleep filling her eyes, he could see the way the corner of her lips turned up into a contented smile. Since they’d gotten over the hump of Tessa feeling uncertain over her parenting skills, she’d been less hesitant and more certain of herself, handling Evie with the grace with which Scott had always known her to possess. 

She was less self-conscious about her singing to Evie, as well, and Scott often heard her soft voice floating down the hallway as Tessa rocked her in the white rocking chair in her nursery. It made him smile each time, the sound of it tugging at his heart strings until he ended up wandering down the hall and watching silently from the doorway. The bond between Tessa and Evie was unbelievably beautiful, and though he was as close to his daughter as any new father could be, there was something between the two of them that he knew he’d never have with Evie. 

Maybe it was the way Evie watched her, eyes full of wonder and love. It was the way Tessa held her, her delicate fingers curling beneath their daughter’s neck and bottom, the way she pressed her close to her breast, breathed in the scent of her hair. He had watched them over the past two-and-a-half months and still hadn’t figured out the beautiful secret of motherhood. 

But it was Scott who held Evie now, cradled in his arms as he made his way through the ice rink. Each step he took was cautious, her small, fragile head nestled in the crook of his arm. A few students stopped to marvel at her, cooing when she directed her blue-green eyes in their direction, the hint of a smile forming at the corners of her lips. 

She’d started to smile, really smile, not just reflexively, over the past week. The first time Scott had seen her tiny lips split into that pink grin, he’d cried. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Tessa had caught him on the floor of the nursery, Evie resting in his lap unsuspectingly as he’d wiped at his eyes. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her that she’d missed their daughter’s first real smile by a matter of seconds, but at the sight of Tessa, Evie’s tiny face lit up and her lips parted once more. 

Tessa had cried then, dropping to her knees and cradling Evie in her arms, her dark hair hanging around the infant’s face as she cooed to her, kissed her tiny cheeks, and begged her to do it again. Evie complied. 

Evie’s smile was the most beautiful thing Scott had ever seen, save for the infant’s mother. He could only compare it, in his mind, to the first time he’d seen Tessa’s tiny round face and gap-toothed grin. The sight of their daughter, so new and impossibly sweet, her soft pink gums exposed as she grinned at him; it was, aside from meeting Tessa, his saving grace. Looking upon Evie, seeing the reflection of himself in her eyes was a feeling he couldn’t begin to put into words. 

Now, Evie smiled freely and easily, and no longer just at him and Tessa. She smiled at strangers, at flashing lights, at animals. She smiled at the ceiling fan. Still, no matter how many times he caught sight of her tiny grin, it never ceased to amaze him. 

“Do you see that big flag, Evie?” He shifted her in his arms, pointing to the Canadian flag that hung above the rink. “Do you see the white and red? That’s our flag.”

He’d heard Tessa mention the importance of talking to the baby; the idea that the more she was talked to, the better her language skills would be. School would be easier; she would be more social. When Scott thought of his schooling experience, he knew he wanted better for Evie, and so he talked. He talked about the weather and sports. He talked about how he loved Evie and Tessa. He talked about how sometimes he missed the coaching family he’d made in Montreal. Still, Evie had watched him without judgement, happy only to have her father’s attention. 

She stretched her feet now, and he could imagine her tiny toes curling beneath her white socks. He wanted to pull them off, to count each digit and be reassured that Evie was truly as perfect as he knew her to be. It felt like a dream come true, discovering every perfect thing about her. Still, Scott knew Tessa would be upset if he removed her tiny white socks. She’d fussed over them before they’d left, ensuring that Evie’s sweater was buttoned and her pants were warm enough. He’d tried to assure her that they’d be fine, that the moment Evie’s cheeks began to turn pink from the chill of the ice he’d hurry her home. 

He didn’t trust himself to take her onto the ice, but he wanted to. He wanted to move with her, hold her in his arms as he introduced her to the incredibly freeing sensation of skating, but he didn’t dare. It wasn’t just the thought of all the times he’d fallen on his ass during practice, sliding to a graceless stop while attempting to regain his composure, the terrifying thought of Evie slipping from his arms and onto the unforgiving surface. It was the fact that skating was something he and Tessa shared, something they’d spent their life doing together. Tessa deserved to be here for Evie’s first time on the ice, he wanted her to be the one holding her as she breathed in the cool of the ice. 

He’d wanted to bring her here, to one of the rinks where they’d practiced so much as children, because it was important to him that Evie be involved in every part of their lives, even the ones that were now in the past. He spoke to her as he carried her through the rink, showcasing her proudly as he walked. In his daughter, he was able to see every good choice he’d made throughout his life, able to celebrate his successes and joys and know that she was made of only the best parts of him. 

There were many things Scott had regretted in life, including the way he’d treated Tessa at several points during the span of their two-decade career. He’d lied, betrayed her, broken her heart with his selfishness, but as he buckled Evie back into her carrier, he knew that these were things he’d done as a foolish man. He’d taken advantage of Tessa’s selflessness and generosity, and as he lifted Evie’s carrier and began to walk to the car, he felt a guilt he’d never fully let himself experience. 

Maybe it was being here with his daughter, maybe it was the fact that it was the first time he’d been fully responsible for Evie without Tessa close by, but he suddenly felt remorseful and ashamed of his behavior. He thought back to the way he hadn’t called her after her life-altering surgery, the way he’d treated her so unkindly after Sochi. He thought of the way she’d come back to him, again and again. As he buckled Evie into the car, he traced a gentle finger down her silky skin and thought of the opportunity Tessa had given to him. The chance to be a father. The chance to do something he’d wanted so desperately his entire life. None of this would be possible without her. 

And so, as he drove home, he talked. He told Evie about the miracle of Tessa. He told her about how lucky she was to have such an incredibly generous and self-sacrificing mother. He told her how badly he’d messed up in the past, how he’d let Tessa down and hurt her feelings. He told her about how desperately sorry he was for these mistakes, for the fact that it had always been her who had been tasked with piecing them back together. He told Evie about that fight they’d gotten into about the broken mug, the way Tessa had stormed out of his house and how it had taken him a month to even muster up the courage to text her. How he shouldn’t have let anything stop him from falling on his knees on her doorstep, begging for her forgiveness. 

And though there wasn’t necessarily anything he could have done during that month, he hated that he hadn’t been around. He’d missed a third of Tessa’s first trimester, had missed most of her morning sickness and watching as her belly went from flat to slightly round. He had missed the early moments of her pregnancy, and those were moments he’d never be able to get back. As if Evie understood his indiscretions, she vocalized in response to him. He could see in the reflection of the mirror how her tiny arms and legs splayed and quivered as she made her contented sounds. 

By the time he pulled into the driveway of Tessa’s home, Evie had quieted. He knew she had fallen asleep, and he was quiet as he slid out of the driver’s seat and opened the back door of the car, retrieving her carrier and curling his fingers around the handle. Evie’s tiny perfect eyelashes fluttered as she dreamed, Scott carrying her to the front door of the home. He opened the front door, momentarily taken aback by the silence of the house. Between the three of them, there didn’t seem to be a quiet moment to spare. He’d grown so accustomed to the busy sounds of life with an infant that it was almost unsettling not hearing her cries or happy squeals. 

“Tess?” He called out, placing the carrier on the floor and bending down to unbuckle Evie. “We’re home!” 

A moment later, he heard her padding down the stairs, moving quickly as she rushed into the living room. 

“You’re home!” He turned to her, her pretty face alight with joy. Scott grinned at her as she moved toward him, cradling Evie in one arm as Tessa slid herself close to him. Just as he moved to wrap her in a hug, her hands slid beneath the baby’s tiny body, lifting her from his embrace and holding Evie close to her chest. She cupped her lovingly, nuzzling her nose into the infant’s soft hair, inhaling her scent. “I missed you so much.”

It took a moment for him to realize what she’d done, rushing to him simply to take the baby from his arms, and he chuckled. Tessa looked up at him, almost as if she’d just realized Scott was also home. She giggled then, rushed back into his embrace and allowed him to hold her close, resting her head against his chest as his arms encircled her.   
She looked up at him, her green eyes wide and so beautiful that it physically ached to look at her. He couldn’t get over her beauty, was sure that he could spend a million lifetimes looking at her face and would never grow tired of it, would never be able to count every freckle or speck of gold in her eyes. He dipped his head, caught her lips in a gentle kiss, the feel of her mouth enough to bring him back to this moment, standing in the living room with their daughter nestled between them. 

“I missed you, too,” she admitted shyly after a moment, “Did you have fun?”

He studied her, noticed the fresh pink skin beneath her white robe, the way her hair hung in loose tendrils around her face. He leaned into her, inhaled her just the way she’d breathed in Evie’s baby scent. She smelled of soap, a hint of lilac. He imagined her standing beneath the steady thrum of the shower allowing the hot water to rush over her. He thought of the suds of soap as they slid from her porcelain skin to the shower drain, felt his arousal stirring at the thought of Tessa’s supple body bare just beneath her plush white robe. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged, a sheepish grin curling the corners of his lips. “She loved the ice. She’s already doing twizzles. You should have seen it, Tess, it was amazing.”   
Tessa’s eyes grew wide for an instant and then she scoffed, smacking his chest playfully. 

“Take our baby onto the ice without me and it won’t be the only thing that freezes up,” she teased him. “Six weeks without sex wasn’t long enough for you, eh?” 

Scott groaned, tossed his head back in an exaggerated show of defeat. 

“Come on, babe. Don’t be like that. You wouldn’t last a week.” He was pushing it, he knew, hoped she wouldn’t take him too seriously. When Tessa decided on something, she went through with it, no matter the consequences. Suddenly concerned that his teasing had gone too far, he nuzzled the side of her face, placed a gentle kiss against the shell of her ear. Of course he’d been joking, but the thought of spending another six weeks without being able to bury himself inside her was torture. 

“I love you.” 

She laughed again, the sudden sound startling Evie, who twitched in Tessa’s arms. She glared up at him, her eyes narrowed in playful retaliation, but she leaned into him and brushed a kiss against his cheek. 

“I love you, too. For some reason.” 

“Oh,” he feigned indignation, a hand coming up to press against his chest, mimicking his heartache. “That hurts.” 

“Yeah, I’ll bet it does,” she grinned, “I have to feed and change Evie. Do you want to shower?”

His eyes traced her body, his shoulders shrugging. 

“I’ll wait. But, Tess,” he reached for her, his fingertips brushing the back of her hand. “Thank you.” 

She shifted the baby onto her shoulder, her hand rubbing slow circles on her back. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me take her today,” he said, and suddenly he felt the lump in his throat, heard the emotion in his voice. “I know how hard it was for you to be away from her.” 

And that was true. It was the first time they’d been separated by more than a nursery door. Tessa hadn’t wanted her to go at first, tears uncharacteristically springing to her eyes as Scott had asked to take her to the rink. It had taken gentle coaxing, more tears on Tessa’s part, and Scott’s steady hand against her back just as Tessa currently did with Evie. He’d finally convinced her, though it hadn’t been easy. And seeing them now, mother and child nestled into one another, he understood why. 

Shortly after her birth, Tessa had exclaimed that it felt like her heart had been ripped from her body and had grown legs. It had taken him some time to understand, but as he’d watched her through the following days and weeks, he’d started to comprehend her words. Tessa had grown her for nine months, had nurtured every part of her body, had provided her everything. There hadn’t been a breath she’d taken that Evie didn’t benefit from, and suddenly, she was here in this world and her own person. Breathing, blinking, thinking. Happy, tired, lonely. Somehow, this little bundle of cells had developed into an individual who no longer required another to live for her. 

Though she wouldn’t admit it, he knew it had nearly broken her. He’d only seen the same distinct aimlessness within her during the aftermath of PyeongChang, that terrible span of time when she’d been directionless. Scott had worried about postpartum depression, had even voiced the concern to Jordan once when she’d been over to visit Evie. But then, just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone and Tessa was back to her limitless self. It was one of the many reasons he loved her; her ability to bounce back and forth between such strong emotions was merely another indicator of her resiliency. 

“Oh,” Tessa nodded now, her eyes lowering to Evie, using one hand to stroke her delicate head. “You’re welcome.” 

He watched as Tessa hesitated for a moment, pressing herself close to him once more and catching his lips in a soft kiss. 

“I’ll be back, yeah?” 

He nodded, watching her go. 

He wondered if she knew how desperately he loved her. 

*

Tessa settled herself into the white rocking chair, using a slender finger to stroke Evie’s cheek as her eyelashes fluttered and she stirred from her nap. 

“Hi, angel,” Tessa smiled down at her, parting her robe and guiding Evie to her breast. “Did you have fun with Daddy today? Did he show you around the rink?” 

She rocked as Evie drank, watched her perfect little lips as she suckled. 

“Mommy missed you. You probably didn’t even realize I wasn’t there, baby, but I missed you so much.” She stroked her hair, patted her bottom. “You don’t know how hard it is being away from you. But that’s something I have to work on. You don’t need to worry about that.” 

She gazed down at the baby in her arms, thought of all the times during her pregnancy and even before the positive test that she’d thought of moments like this, the quiet moments of connection between the two of them. She thought of all the things she’d expected, every wish she’d had regarding their child, and realized that Evie had surpassed all of them. She was sweeter, smelled better, her skin was softer. There was nothing about Evie that she didn’t love, nothing that made her feel anything less than eternally grateful to Scott for giving her the opportunity to be a mother. 

As Evie finished eating and Tessa rose and made her way to the changing table, the silence was interrupted by the chords of a song she couldn’t place. They were soft and almost sorrowful, and she looked toward the doorway, from wherein the song drifted. She noticed Evie turning her head toward the sound, her wide eyes curiously searching for the source. 

Tessa diapered Evie and dressed her, lifting her once more and holding her close to her chest. She moved down the hallway and toward the stairs, curiously tilting her head as she moved closer to the sound. 

It was darker than it had been, and Tessa realized with a glance that Scott had dimmed the lights. She rolled her eyes playfully, called to him over the swell of the music. 

“Evie’s awake, and we can’t-” She paused as she came into the frame of the room, Scott standing before them, a tender smile playing across his lips. The song ended and a new one began, the gentle sound of Sam Cooke’s Bring It On Home to Me drifting through the air. As the artist’s smooth voice floated from the speakers, Scott’s hands raised, his palms turned upward invitingly.

Just as Tessa opened her mouth to question him, he spoke. 

“Dance with me.”

His voice was soft and low, and Tessa glanced down to her arms, toward Evie who was watching her father curiously. 

“I have the baby,” she offered lamely, and he nodded, his handsome face marked by a soft smile. 

“I know,” he stepped closer to her, “And I’m asking both of you to dance with me.” 

Tessa’s feet carried her forward, Scott’s arms embracing her, his large fingers splaying across her back just as they had for so many years on the ice. But unlike then, when it had just been the two of them, his eyes drifted down to the infant between them. One hand moved to brush Evie’s head, dipping his head to place a gentle kiss against her soft hair. 

“Scott…” she whispered his name, suddenly overwhelmed by the moment. It was too perfect and he was too sweet, too loving. It couldn’t be real, except it was. The boy she’d loved since she was a little girl had taken her into his arms, their child nestled safely between them. 

And then they began to move gently to the music. 

He pressed a kiss against her head, her neck, her shoulder. His touch was unbelievably gentle, his hands guiding her as they swayed. 

“It’s been too long since we danced,” he whispered the words to her, and they sent a warm sensation down her spine. Her heart swelled with love and affection, and the music continued to play. 

_Baby, bring it to me, bring your sweet loving. Bring it on home to me._

“It has,” she agreed, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder as they moved. Evie watched them, a tiny smile curling the corners of her lips as Scott met her eyes. Tessa noticed the interaction between them and laughed softly. Scott tossed his head back playfully, closing his eyes as he crooned the lyrics to her. 

“You know I’ll always be your slave, ‘til I’m buried, buried in my grave.” His voice was a false soprano. Tessa laughed, placed a hand on his chest. He laughed then, too, and it reminded her of all the times they’d rehearsed in the studio, the two of them joking and laughing like they were children as they neared their thirties. 

“I don’t want you to be my slave,” she grinned at him, shook her head, her eyes suddenly catching on the diamond on her left ring finger. “All I want you to do is be my sweet Scott. I just want it to be like this forever.” 

“I know, Tess,” his voice was laced with emotion, his dark eyes watching her with the look of adoration she’d taken for granted for so many years. “I know, babe. And it will.”

If there had ever been a moment that Tessa would have hit the pause button on her life, she realized it wouldn’t have been those moments at the top of the podium during the Olympics. It wouldn’t have been the adrenaline-fueled moments right after Evie’s birth when she’d been numb and drunk with the newness of motherhood. 

It would be this moment, she realized. This quiet moment in her home with Scott and their daughter, locked in an embrace and swaying gently to a song, this was the moment she would spend forever in.


End file.
